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Digitized by the Internet Arciiive 
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http://www.arcliive.org/details/historicaltalesr03morr 




THE EMPEROR CHARLES V. 



Historical Tales 



The Romance of Reality 



BY 

CHARLES MORRIS 

AUTHOR OF "half-hours WITH THE BEST AMERICAN 
AUTHORS," "tales FROM THE DRAMATISTS," "KING 
ARTHUR AND THE KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND-TABLE," ETC. 



SPANISH 



PHIL A DELP HI A 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 

1899 



-^ 



21417 



Copyright, 1898, 



BY 



J. B. LippiNcoTT Company. 

uYO COPIES RECEIVE^' 







CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

The Good King Wamba 7 

The Greek King's Daughter 13 

The Enchanted Palace 17 

The Battle of the Guadalete 23 

The Table of Solomon 30 

The Story of Queen Exilona 40 

Pelistes, the Defender of Cordova 47 

The Stratagem of Theodomir 54 

The Caye of Covadonga 60 

The Adventures of a Fugitive Prince 68 

Bernardo del Carpio 75 

But Diaz, the Cid Campeador 81 

Las Navas de Tolosa 96 

The Key of Granada 106 

King Abul Hassan and the Alcaide of Gibraltar. 115 

The Bival Kings of Granada 123 

The Knight of the Exploits 132 

The Last Sigh of the Moor 143 

The Beturn of Columbus 151 

Peter the Cruel and the Free Companies . . . 156 

The Great Captain 172 

A King in Captivity 183 

The Invasion of Africa 192 

An Emperor retired from Business 202 

The Fate of a Beckless Prince 213 

3 



'4 CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Spain's Greatest Victory at Sea 224 

The Invincible Armada 235 

The Causes op Spain's Decadence 246 

The Last of a Koyal Kace 257 

Henry Morgan and the Buccaneers 266 

Elizabeth Farnese and Alberoni 275 

The Kock of Gibraltar 284 

The Fall of a Favorite . 292 

The Siege of Saragossa 302 

The Hero of the Carlists 313 

Manila and Santiago 322 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



SPAIN. 

PAGE 

The Emperor Charles V {Frontispiece). 

Toledo, with the Alcazar 42 

Baronial Castle in Old Castile 67 

Valencia del Cid 90 

King Charles's Well, Alhambra 127 

Keception op Columbus by Ferdinand and Isa- 
bella 162 

Hall op Ambassadors, Alcazar op Seville . . . 158 
GoNSALVo de Cordova finding the Corpse of the 

Duke of Nemours 180 

Francis I. refusing the Demands of Charles V. 188 

Charles V. approaching Yustb 205 

The Koyal Palace, Madrid 219 

The City of Saragossa 302 



THE GOOD KING WAMBA. 

Long had the Goths been lords of Spain. Chief 
after chief had they chosen, king after king had 
they served; and, though it was young in time, 
Gothic Spain was growing old in years. It reached 
its golden age in the time of " Good King Wamba," 
a king of fancy as much as of fact, under whom 
Spain became a land of Arcady, everybody was 
happy, all things prospered, and the tide of evil 
events for a space ceased to flow. 

In those days, when a king died and left no son, 
the Goths elected a new one, seeking their best and 
worthiest, and holding the election in the place 
where the old king had passed away. It was in the 
little village of Gerticos, some eight miles from the 
city of Yalladolid, that King Eecesuinto had sought 
health and found death. Hither came the electors, 
— the great nobles, the bishops, and the generals, — 
and here they debated who should be king, finally 
settling on a venerable Goth named Wamba, the one 
man of note in all the kingdom who throughout his 
life had declined to accept rank and station. 

The story goes that their choice was aided by 
miracle. In those days miracles were " as plentiful 
as blackberries" ; but the essence of many of them 
seems to have been what we call common sense or 
political shrewdness. St. Leo told them to seek a 

7 



8 HISTORICAL TALES. 

husbandman named Wamba, whose lands lay some- 
where in the west. The worthy saint said he had 
received this order from Heaven, — for which we may 
take his saintly word if we choose. However that 
be, scouts were sent through the land in search of 
Wamba, whom they found at length in his fields, 
driving his plough through the soil and asking for no 
higher lot. He was like Cincinnatus, the famous 
Roman, who was called from the plough to the 
sceptre. 

" Leave your plough in the furrow," they said to 
him ; " nobler work awaits you. You have been 
elected king of Spain." 

"There is no nobler work," answered "Wamba. 
" Seek elsewhere your monarch. I prefer to rule 
over my fields." 

The astonished heralds knew not what to make 
of this. To them the man who would not be king 
must be a saint — or an idiot. They reasoned, begged, 
implored, until Wamba, anxious to get rid of them, 
said, — 

*' I will accept the crown when the dry rod in my 
hand grows green again, — and not till then." 

The good old husbandman fancied that he had 
fairly settled the question, but miracle defeated his 
purpose. To his utter surprise and their deep as- 
tonishment the dry stick which he thrust into the 
ground at once became a green plant, fresh leaves 
breaking out on its upper end. What was the old 
man fond of his plough to do in such a case ? He had 
appealed to Heaven, and here was Heaven's reply. 
He went with the heralds to the electoral congress, 



THE GOOD KING WAMBA. 9 

but there, in spite of the green branch, he again re- 
fused to be king. He knew what it meant to try 
and govern men like those around him, and preferred 
not to undertake the task. But one of the chiefs 
sprang up, drew his sword, and advanced to the old 
man. 

"If you are still obstinate in refusing the position 
we offer you," he sternly said, "you shall lose your 
head as well as your crown." 

His fierce eyes and brandished sword gave weight 
to his words, and Wamba, concluding that he would 
rather be a king than a corpse, accepted the trust. 
He was then escorted by the council and the army 
to Toledo, feeling more like a captive than a mon- 
arch. There he was anointed and crowned, and, 
from being lord of his fields, the wise old husband- 
man became king of Spain. 

Such a king as Wamba proved to be the Goths 
had never known. Age had brought him wisdom, 
but it had not robbed him of energy. He knew 
what he had to expect and showed himself master 
of the situation. Eevolts broke out, conspiracies 
threatened the throne, but one after another he put 
them down. Yet he was as merciful as he was 
prompt. His enemies were set free and bidden to 
behave themselves better in the future. One am- 
bitious noble named Paul, who thought it would be 
an easy thing to take the throne from an old man 
who had shown so plainly that he did not want 
it, rose in rebellion. He soon learned his mistake. 
Wamba met him in battle, routed his army, and took 
him prisoner. Paul expected nothing less than to 



10 HISTORICAL TALES. 

have his head stricken off, but Wamba simply ordered 
that it should be shaved. 

To shave the crown of the head in those days was 
no trifling matter. It formed what is known as 
the tonsure, and was the mark of the priesthood. 
A man condemned to the tonsure could not serve as 
king or chieftain, but must spend the remainder of 
his days in seclusion as a monk. So Paul was dis- 
posed of without losing his life. 

Wamba, however, did not spend all his time in 
fighting with conspirators. He was so just a king 
that all the historians praise him to the stars, — 
though none of them tell us what just deeds he did. 
He was one of those famous monarchs around whom 
legend loves to grow, as the green leaves grew around 
his dry rod, and who become kings of fancy in the 
absence of facts. About all we know is that he was 
" Good King Wamba," a just and merciful man under 
whom Spain reached its age of gold. 

He made a great and beautiful city of Toledo, his 
capital. It had a wall, but he gave it another, 
stronger and loftier. And within the city he built 
a noble palace and other splendid buildings, all of 
which time has swept away. But over the great 
gate of Toledo the inscription still remains : Erexit 
fautore Deo Bex inclytus urbem Wamba. "To God 
and King Wamba the city owes its walls." 

Alas ! the end was what might be expected of such 
goodness in so evil an age. A traitor arose among 
those he most favored. There was a youth named 
Ervigio, in whose veins ran the blood of former 
kings, and whom Wamba so loved and honored as 



THE GOOD KING WAMBA. 11 

to raise him to great authority in the kingdom. 
Ervigio was one of those who must be king or slave. 
Ambition made him forget all favors, and he deter- 
mined to cast his royal benefactor from the throne. 
But he was not base enough to murder the good old 
man to whom he owed his greatness. It was enough 
if he could make him incapable of reigning, — as 
Wamba had done with Paul. 

To accomplish this he gave the king a sleeping 
potion, and while he was under its influence had him 
tonsured, — that is, had the crown of his head shaved. 
He then proclaimed that this had been done at the 
wish of the king, who was weary of the throne. But 
whether or not, the law was strict. 'No matter how 
or why it was done, no man who had received the 
tonsure could ever again sit upon the G-othic throne. 
Fortunately for Ervigio, Wamba cared no more for 
the crown now than he had done at first, and when 
he came back to his senses he made little question 
of the base trick of his favorite, but cheerfully 
enough became a monk. The remaining seven years 
of his life he passed happily in withdrawal from a 
world into which he had been forced against his will. 

But the people loved him, the good old man, and 
were not willing to accept the scheming Ervigio as 
their king unless he could prove his right to the 
throne. So, in the year 681, he called together a 
council of lords and bishops at Toledo, before whom 
he appeared with a great show of humility, bringing 
testimony to prove that Wamba had become monk 
at his own wish, when in peril of death. To this he 
added a document signed by Wamba, in which he 



12 HISTORICAL TALES. 

abdicated the throne, and another in which he rec- 
ommended Ervigio as his successor. For eight days 
the council considered the question. The documents 
might be false, but Wamba was a monk, and Ervigio 
was in power ; so they chose him as king. The holy 
oil of consecration was poured upon his unholy head. 
Thus it was that Wamba the husbandman first be- 
came king and afterwards monk. In all his stations 
— farmer, king, and monk — he acquitted himself well 
and worthily, and his name has come down to us 
from the mists of time as one of those rare men of 
whom we know little, but all that little good. 



THE GREEK KING'S DAUGHTER. 

History wears a double face, — one face fancy, the 
other fact. The worst of it is that we cannot always 
tell which face is turned towards us, and we mistake 
one for the other far oftener than we know. In 
truth, fancy works in among the facts of the most 
sober history, while in that primitive form of history 
known as legend or tradition fancy has much the 
best of it, though it may often be founded upon fact. 
In the present tale we have to do with legend pure 
and simple, with hardly a thread of fact to give sub- 
stance to its web. 

There was a certain Grecian king of Cadiz whose 
daughter was of such peerless beauty that her hand 
was sought in marriage by many of the other kings 
of Andalusia. In those days "that country was 
ruled by several kings, each having estates not ex- 
tending over more than one or two cities." What 
to do with the crowd of suitors the father was puz- 
zled to decide. Had a single one asked for his 
daughter's hand he might have settled it with a word, 
but among so many, equally brave, handsome, and dis- 
tinguished, answer was not so easy ; and the worthy 
king of Cadiz was sorely troubled and perplexed. 

Luckily for him, the fair damsel was as wise as 
she was beautiful, and took the matter into her own 
hands, making an announcement that quickly cut 

13 



14 HISTORICAL TALES. 

down the number of her admirers. She said that 
she would have no husband but one who could prove 
himself "a wise king." In our days, when every 
king and nearly every man thinks himself wise, such 
a decision would not have deterred suitors, and she 
would have been compelled, in the end, to choose 
among the few unwise. But wisdom, in those times 
of fable and necromancy, had a wider meaning than 
we give it. A wise king was one who had control 
of the powers of earth and air, who could call the 
genii to his aid by incantations, and perform super- 
natural deeds. Hence it was that the suitors fell 
off from the maiden like leaves from an autumn 
bough, leaving but two who deemed themselves fit- 
ting aspirants to her hand. 

To test the wisdom of these two she gave them 
the following tasks : One was bidden to construct 
on the mainland an aqueduct and a water-wheel to 
bring water from the mountains into Cadiz. The 
other was to produce a talisman which should save 
the island of Cadiz from invasion by Berbers or any 
other of the fierce tribes of Africa, by whom it was 
frequently threatened. 

" The one of you," said the princess, " who first 
and best performs his task, shall win my hand by 
his work." 

The two suitors were warmly in love with the 
beautiful maiden, and both ardently entered upon 
their duties. The first to get to work was the aque- 
duct builder, whose task called for hard labor rather 
than magical aid. Cadiz stands on a long, narrow 
peninsula, opposite which, on the mainland, the king 



THE GREEK KING'S DAUGHTER. 15 

built a hydraulic machine, to which the water was 
brought by pipes or canals from springs in a near- 
by mountain. This stream of cool, refreshing water 
poured upon a wheel, by which it was driven into 
an aqueduct crossing the bay into Cadiz. 

Here comes the fact behind the legend. Such 
an aqueduct stood long in evidence, and as late as 
the eighteenth century traces of it could be seen. 
We have an account of it by the Arab writer, Al 
Makkari. " It consisted," he says, " of a long line 
of arches, and the way it was done was this : when- 
ever they came to high ground or to a mountain 
they cut a passage through it; when the ground 
was lower, they built a bridge over arches ; if they 
met with a porous soil, they laid a bed of gravel for 
the passage of the water ; when the building reached 
the sea-shore, the water was made to pass under- 
ground, and in this way it reached Cadiz." So it 
was built, and " wise" was the king who built it, 
even if he did not call upon the genii for assistance. 

The other king could not perform his labor so 
simply. He had a talisman to construct, so power- 
ful that it would keep out of Spain those fierce Af- 
rican tribes whose boats swept the seas. What 
talisman could he produce that would be proof 
against ships and swords ? The king thought much 
and deeply, and then went diligently to work. On 
the border of the strait that lay between Spain and 
Africa he built a lofty marble column, a square, 
white shaft based on a solid foundation. On its 
summit he erected a colossal statue of iron and cop- 
per, melted and cast into the human form. The 



16 HISTORICAL TALES. 

figure was that of a Berber, like whom it wore a 
full and flowing beard, while a tuft of hair hung 
over its forehead in Berber fashion. The dress was 
that of the African tribes. The extended right arm 
of the figure pointed across the strait towards the 
opposite shores. In its hand were a padlock and 
keys. Though it spoke not, it seemed to say, "I^o 
one must pass this way." It bore the aspect of a 
Berber captive, chained to the tower's top, and 
warning his brethren to keep away from Spain. 

Eapidly wrought the rival kings, each seeking to 
finish his work the first. In this the aqueduct 
builder succeeded. The water began to flow, the 
wheel to revolve, and the refreshing liquid to pour 
into the public fountains of Cadiz. The multitude 
were overjoyed as the glad torrent flowed into their 
streets, and hailed with loud acclamations the suc- 
cessful builder. 

The sound of the people's shouts of joy reached the 
ears of the statue builder as he was putting the last 
touches to his great work of art and magic. Despair 
filled his heart. Despite his labors, his rival had won 
the prize. In bitterness of spirit he threw himself 
from the top of the column and was dashed to pieces 
at its foot. " By which means," says the chronicle, 
" the other prince, freed from his rival, became the 
master of the lady, of the wheel, and of the charm." 

The talisman was really a watch-tower, from 
which the news of an African invasion could be sig- 
nalled through the land. In this cold age we can 
give its builder credit for no higher magic than that 
of wisdom and vigilance. 



THE ENCHANTED PALACE. 

Near the city of Toledo, the capital of Spain when 
that country was a kingdom of the Goths, was a 
great palace of the olden time, or, as some say, a 
vast cave, which had been deepened and widened and 
made into many rooms. Still others say that it was 
a mighty tower, built by Hercules. Whatever it was, 
— palace, tower, or cavern, — a spell lay upon it from 
far past days, which none had dared to break. There 
was an ancient prophecy that Spain would in time 
be invaded by barbarians from Africa, and to prevent 
this a wise king, who knew the arts of magic, had 
placed a secret talisman in one of the rooms. While 
this remained undisturbed the country was safe from 
invasion. If once the secret of the talisman should 
be divulged, swift ruin would descend upon the king- 
dom of the Goths. It must be guarded strongly and 
well, for in it lay the destinies of Spain. 

A huge iron gate closed the entrance to the en- 
chanted palace, and upon this each king of the Goths, 
on coming to the throne, placed a strong lock, so 
that in time huge padlocks covered much of its 
front and its secrecy seemed amply assured. When 
Eoderic, the last king of the Goths, came to the 
throne, twenty-seven of such locks hung upon the 
gate. As for the keys, some writers tell us that they 
remained in the locks, others say that they had been 

2 17 



C 



18 HISTORICAL TALES. 

hidden and lost ; but it is certain that no one had 
dared to open a single one of the locks ; prudence 
and fear guarded the secret better than gates and 
locks. 

At length the time came when the cherished secret 
was to be divulged. Don Eoderic, wlio had seized 
the throne by violence, and bore in his heart the fatal 
bane of curiosity, determined to learn what had lain 
for centuries behind those locks. The whole affair, 
he declared, was the jest of an ancient king, which 
did very well when superstition ruled the world, but 
which was far behind the age in which he lived. Two 
things moved the epoch-breaking king, — curiosity, 
that vice which has led thousands to ruin, and avarice, 
which has brought destruction upon thousands more. 
" It is a treasure-house, not a talisman," he told 
himself. " Gold, silver, and jewels lie hidden in its 
mouldy depths. My treasury is empty, and I should 
be a fool to let a cluster of rusty locks keep me from 
fillins: it from this ancient store." 

When it became known what Eoderic proposed a 
shudder of horror ran through the land. Nobles 
and bishops hastened to the audience chamber and 
sought to hinder the fateful purpose of the rash 
monarch. Their hearts were filled with dread of 
the perils that would follow any meddling with the 
magic spell, and they earnestly implored him not to 
bring the foretold disaster upon the land. 

" The kings who reigned before you have re- 
ligiously obeyed the injunction," they said. " Each 
of them has fixed his lock to the gate. It will be 
wise and prudent in you to follow their example. If 



THE ENCHANTED PALACE. 19 

it is gold and jewels you look for, tell us how much 
you think the cavern holds, even all your fancy 
hopes to find, and so much we will give you. Even 
if it beggars us, we will collect and bring you this 
sum without fail. We pray and implore you, then, 
do not break a custom which our old kings have all 
held sacred. They knew well what they did when 
they commanded that none after them should seek 
to disclose the fatal secret of the hidden chamber." 

Earnest as was their appeal, it was wasted upon 
Koderic. Their offer of gold did not reach his deep- 
est motive ; curiosity with him was stronger than 
greed, and he laughed in his beard at the fears and 
tremblings of his lords. 

"It shall not be said that Don Eoderic, the king 
of the Goths, fears the devil or his agents," he loudly 
declared, and orders were given that the locks should 
be forced. 

One by one the rusty safeguards yielded to key 
or sledge, and the gates shrieked disapproval when at 
length they reluctantly turned on their stiff hinges, 
that had not moved for centuries. Into the cavern 
strode the king, followed by his fearful but curious 
train. The rooms, as tradition had said, were many, 
and from room to room he hurried with rapid feet. 
He sought in vain. No gold appeared, no jewels 
glittered on his sight. The rooms were drear and 
empty, their hollow floors mocking his footsteps with 
long-silent echoes. One treasure only he found, the 
jewelled table of Solomon, a famous ancient work 
of art which had long remained hidden from human 
sight. Of this wonderful relic we shall say no more 



20 HISTORICAL TALES. 

here, for it has a history of its own, to be told in a 
future tale. 

On and on went the disappointed king, with 
nothing to satisfy his avarice or his curiosity. At 
length he entered the chamber of the spell, the magic 
room which had so long been locked from human 
vision, and looked with eyes of wonder on the secret 
which had been so carefully preserved. 

What he saw was simple but threatening. On the 
wall of the room was a rude painting, which repre- 
sented a group of strangely dressed horsemen, some 
wearing turbans, some bareheaded, with locks of 
coarse black hair hanging over their foreheads. The 
skins of animals covered their limbs ; they carried 
scimitars and lances and bore fluttering pennons ; 
their horses were small, but of purest breed. 

Turning in doubt and dread from this enigmatical 
drawing, the daring intruder saw in the centre of 
the apartment a pedestal bearing a marble urn, in 
which lay a scroll of parchment. From this one of 
his scribes read the following words : 

" Whenever this asylum is violated and the spell 
contained in this urn broken, the people shown in 
the picture shall invade the land and overturn the 
throne of its kings. The rule of the Goths shall end 
and the whole country fall into the hands of heathen 
strangers." 

King Eoderic looked again with eyes of alarm 
on the pictured forms. Well he knew their mean- 
ing. The turban-wearers were Arabians, their horses 
the famous steeds of the desert; the bare-headed 
barbarians were Berbers or Moors. Already they 



THE ENCHANTED PALACE. 21 

threatened the land from Africa's shores ; he had 
broken the spell which held them back; the time 
for the fulfilment of the prophecy was at hand. 

Filled with sudden terror, the rash invader hurried 
from the chamber of the talisman, his courtiers flying 
with wild haste to the open air. The brazen gates 
were closed with a clang which rang dismally through 
the empty rooms, and the lock of the king was fixed 
upon them. But it was too late. The voice of des- 
tiny had spoken and the fate of the kingdom been 
revealed, and all the people looked upon Don Eod- 
eric as a doomed man. 

We have given this legend in its mildest form. 
Some Arab writers surround it with magical inci- 
dents until it becomes a tale worthy of the " Arabian 
Nights' Entertainments." They speak of two an- 
cient men with snowy beards who kept the keys of 
the gate and opened the locks only at Eoderic's 
stern command. When the locks were removed no 
one could stir the gates until the hand of the king 
touched them, when they sprang open of themselves. 
Inside stood a huge bronze giant with a club of steel, 
with which he dealt resounding blows on the floor 
to right and left. He desisted at the king's com- 
mand, and the train entered unharmed. In the 
magic chamber they found a golden casket contain- 
ing a linen cloth between tablets of brass. On this 
were painted figures of Arabs in armor. As they 
gazed these began to move, sounds of war were 
heard, and the vision of a battle between Arab and 
Christian warriors passed before the affrighted eyes 
of the intruders. The Christian army was defeated, 



22 HISTORICAL TALES. 

and Eoderic saw the image of himself in flight, and 
finally of his horse without a rider. As he rushed 
in terror from the fatal room the bronze giant was 
no longer to be seen and the ancient guardians of 
the gate lay dead upon their posts. In the end the 
tower was burned by magic fire, and its very ashes 
were scattered by the wings of an innumerable flight 
of birds. 



THE BATTLE OF THE GUADA- 

LETE. 

The legends just given are full of the pith of facts. 
Dread of Africa lay deep in the Spanish heart and 
gave point to these and other magical and romantic 
tales. The story of how the great conqueror, Mo- 
hammed, had come out from the deserts of Arabia 
and sent his generals, sword and Koran in hand, to 
conquer the world, had spread far to the east and 
the west, and brought terror wherever it came. 
From Arabia the Moslem hordes had swept through 
Egypt and along the African coast to the extremity 
of Morocco. They now faced Spain and coveted 
that rich and populous land. Well might the de- 
generate sons of the Goths fear their coming and 
strive to keep them out with talismans and spells. 

Years before, in the days of good King Wamba, a 
great Mohammedan fleet had ravaged the Andalu* 
sian coast. Others came, not for conquest, but for 
spoil. But at length all North Africa lay under the 
Moslem yoke, and Musa Ibn Nasseyr, the conqueror 
of the African tribes, east eyes of greed upon Spain 
and laid plans for the subjugation to Arab rule of 
that far-spreading Christian land. 

Africa, he was told, was rich, but Spain was richer. 
Its soil was as fertile as that of Syria, its climate as 

23 



24 HISTORICAL TALES. 

mild and sweet as that of Araby the Blest. The 
far-famed mines of distant Cathay did not equal it 
in wealth of minerals and gems ; nowhere else were 
such harbors, nowhere such highlands and plains. 
The mountain-ranges, beautiful to see, enclosed val- 
leys of inexhaustible fertility. It was a land " plen- 
tiful in waters, renowned for their sweetness and 
clearness," — Andalusia's noble streams. Famous 
monuments graced its towns : the statue of Hercules 
at Cadiz, the idol of Galicia, the stately ruins of 
Merida and Tarragona. It was a realm the con- 
quest of which would bring wealth and fame, — ^great 
glory to the sons of Allah and great treasure to the 
successors of the Prophet. Musa determined upon 
its invasion. 

A traitor came to his aid. Count Julian was gov- 
ernor of Ceuta, a Spanish city on the African coast. 
His daughter Florinda was maid of honor to the 
queen of Don Eoderic. But word from the daugh- 
ter came to the father that she had suifered grievous 
injury at the hands of the king, and Count Julian, 
thirsting for revenge upon Eoderic, offered to deliver 
Ceuta into the hands of the Arabian warrior and 
aid him in the conquest of Spain. To test the good 
faith of Julian, Musa demanded that he should first 
invade Andalusia himself This he did, taking over 
a small force in two vessels, overrunning the coast 
country, killing many of its people, and returning 
with a large booty in slaves and plunder. 

In the summer of 710 a Berber named Tarif was 
sent over to spy out the land, and in the spring of 
711 the army of invasion was led over by Tarik Ibn 



THE BATTLE OF THE GUADALETE. 25 

Zeyad, a valiant chief, who had gained great glory- 
in the wars with the Berber tribes. Who Tarik was 
cannot be told. He was of humble origin, probably 
of Persian birth, but possessed of a daring spirit that 
was to bring him the highest fame. He is described 
as a tall man, with red hair and a white complexion, 
blind of one eye, and with a mole on his hand. The 
Spanish historians call him Tarik el Tuerto, meaning 
either " one-eyed" or " squint-eyed." Such was the 
man whom Musa sent to begin the conquest of Spain. 

The army of invasion consisted of seven thousand 
men, — a handful to conquer a kingdom. They were 
nearly all Moorish and Berber cavalry, there being 
only three hundred Arabians of pure blood, most of 
whom were officers. Landing in Spain, for a time 
they found no one to meet them. Eoderic was busy 
with his army in the north and knew naught of this 
invasion of his kingdom, and for two months Tarik 
ravaged the land at his will. But at length the 
Gothic king, warned of his danger, began a hasty 
march southward, sending orders in advance to levy 
troops in all parts of the kingdom, the rallying place 
being Cordova. 

It was a large army which he thus got together, 
but they were ill-trained, ill-disciplined, and ill- 
disposed to their king. Ninety thousand there were, 
as Arab historians tell us, while Tarik had but twelve 
thousand, Musa having sent him five thousand more. 
But the large army was a mob, half-armed, and 
lacking courage and discipline ; the small army was 
a compact and valorous body, used to victory, fear- 
less, and impetuous. 



26 HISTORICAL TALES. 

It was on Sunday, the 19th of July, 711, that the 
two armies came face to face on the banks of the 
Guadalete, a rivei' whose waters traverse the plain 
of Sidonia, in which the battle was fought. It was 
one of the decisive battles in the world's history, for 
it gave the peninsula of Spain for eight centuries to 
Arab dominion. The story of how this battle was 
fought is, therefore, among the most important of 
the historical tales of Spain. 

Eoderic's army consisted of two bodies of men, — 
a smaller force of cavaliers, clad in mail armor and 
armed with swords and battle-axes, and the main 
body, which was a motley crew, without armor, and 
carrying bows, lances, axes, clubs, scythes, and slings. 
Of the Moslem army the greater number wore mail, 
some carrying lances and scimitars of Damascus 
steel, others being armed with light long-bows. 
Their horses were Arabian or Barbary steeds, such 
as Eoderic had seen on the walls of the secret 
chamber. 

It was in the early morning of a bright spring 
day that the Spanish clarions sounded defiance to 
the enemy, and the Moorish horns and kettle-drums 
rang back the challenge to battle. Nearer and 
nearer together came the hosts, the shouts of the 
Goths met by the shrill Mies of the Moslems. 

" By the faith of the Messiah," Eoderic is re- 
ported to have said, " these are the very men I saw 
painted on the walls of the chamber of the spell at 
Toledo." From that moment, say the chroniclers, 
" fear entered his heart." And yet the story goes that 
he fought long and well and showed no signs of fear. 



THE BATTLE OP THE GUADALETE. 27 

On his journey to the south Eoderic had travelled 
in a chariot of ivory, lined with cloth of gold, and 
drawn by three white mules harnessed abreast. On 
the silken awning of the chariot pearls, rubies, and 
other rich jewels were profusely sprinkled. He sat 
with a crown of gold on his head, and was dressed 
in a robe made of strings of pearls interwoven with 
silk. This splendor of display, however, was not 
empty ostentation, but the state and dignity which 
was customary with the G-othic kings. 

In his chariot of ivory Eoderic passed through 
the ranks, exhorting the men to valor, and telling 
them that the enemy was a low rabble of heathens, 
abhorred of God and men. " Eemember," he said, 
" the valor of your ancestors and the holy Christian 
faith, for whose defence we are fighting." Then he 
sprang from his chariot, put on his horned helmet, 
mounted his war-horse Orelia, and took his station 
in the field, prepared to fight like a soldier and a 
king. 

For two days the battle consisted of a series of 
skirmishes. At the end of that time the Christians 
had the advantage. Their numbers had told, and 
new courage came to their hearts. Tarik saw that 
defeat would be his lot if this continued, and on the 
morning of the third day he made a fiery appeal to 
his men, rousing their fanaticism and picturing the 
treasures and delights which victory would bring 
them. He ended with his war-cry of "Guala! 
Guala ! Follow me, my warriors ! I shall not stop 
until I reach the tyrant in the midst of his steel- 
clad warriors, and either kill him or he kill me I" 



28 HISTORICAL TALES. 

At the head of his men the dusky one-eyed war- 
rior rushed with fiery energy upon the Gothic lines, 
cleaving his way through the ranks towards a gen- 
eral whose rich armor seemed to him that of the 
king. His impetuous charge carried him deep into 
their midst. The seeming king was before him. 
One blow and he fell dead ; while the Moslems, cry- 
ing that the king of the Goths was killed, followed 
their leader with resistless ardor into the hostile 
ranks. The Christians heard and believed the 
story, and lost heart as their enemy gained new 
energy. 

At this critical moment, as we are told, Bishop 
Oppas, brother-in-law of the traitor Julian, drew off 
and joined the Moslem ranks. Whether this was 
the case or not, the charge of Tarik led the way to 
victory. He had pierced the Christian centre. The 
wings gave way before the onset of his chiefs. Ee- 
sistance was at an end. In utter panic the soldiers 
flung away their arms and took to flight, heedless 
of the stores and treasures of their camp, thinking 
of nothing but safety, flying in all directions through 
the country, while the Moslems, following on their 
flying steeds, cut them down without mercy. 

Eoderic, the king, had disappeared. If slain in 
the battle, his body was never found. "Wounded and 
despairing, he may have been slain in flight or been 
drowned in the stream. It was afterwards said that 
his war-horse, its golden saddle rich with rubies, 
was found riderless beside the stream, and that near 
by lay a royal crown and mantle, and a sandal em- 
broidered with pearls and emeralds. But all we can 



THE BATTLE OF THE GUADALETE. 29 

safely say is that Eoderic had vanished, his army 
was dispersed, and Spain was the prize of Tarik and 
the Moors, for resistance was quickly at an end, and 
they went on from victory to victory until the coun- 
try was nearly all in their hands. 



THE TABLE OF SOLOMON. 

We have told how King Eoderic, when he in- 
vaded the enchanted palace of Toledo, found in its 
empty chambers a single treasure, — the famous table 
of Solomon. But this was a treasure worth a king's 
ransom, a marvellous talisman, so splendid, so beau- 
tiful, so brilliant that the chroniclers can scarce find 
words fitly to describe its richness and value. Some 
say that it was made of pure gold, richly inlaid with 
precious stones. Others say that it was a mosaic of 
gold and silver, burnished yellow and gleaming 
white, ornamented with three rows of priceless 
jewels, one being of large pearls, one of costly 
rubies, and a third of gleaming emeralds. Other 
writers say that its top was made of a single emer- 
ald, a talisman revealing the fates in its lucid depths. 
Most writers say that it stood upon three hundred 
and sixty-five feet, each made of a single emerald, 
thouffh still another writer declares that it had not 
a foot to stand upon. 

Evidently none of these worthy chroniclers had 
seen the jewelled table except in the eye of fancy, 
which gave it what shape and form best fitted its 
far-famed splendor. They varied equally in their 
history of the talisman. A mildly drawn story says 
that it first came from Jerusalem to Eome, that it 
fell into the hands of the Goths when they sacked 
30 



THE TABLE OF SOLOMON. 31 

the city of the Caesars, and that some of them brought 
it into Spain. But there was a story more in ac- 
cordance with the Arabian love of the marvellous 
which stated that the table was the work of the 
Djinn, or G-enii, the mighty spirits of the air, whom 
the wise king Solomon had subdued and who obeyed 
his commands. After Solomon's time it was kept 
among the holy treasures of the temple, and became 
one of the richest spoils of the Romans when they 
captured and sacked Jerusalem. It afterwards be- 
came the prize of a king of Spain, perhaps in the 
way stated above. 

Thus fancy has adorned the rich and beautiful 
work of art which Don Eoderic is said to have 
found in the enchanted palace, and which he placed 
as the noblest of the treasures of Spain in the splen- 
did church of Toledo, the Gothic capital. This city 
fell into the hands of Tarik el Tuerto in his conquer- 
ing progress through the realm of Spain, and the 
emerald table, whose fame had reached the shores 
of Africa, was sought by him far and near. 

It had disappeared from the church, perhaps car- 
ried off by the bishop in his flight. But fast as the 
fugitives fled, faster rode the Arab horsemen on their 
track, one swift troop riding to Medina Celi, on the 
high road to Saragossa. On this route they came 
to a city named by them Medinatu-1-Mayidah (city 
of the table), in which they found the famous talis- 
man. They brought it to Tarik as one of the choicest 
spoils of Spain. 

Its later history is as curious and much more au- 
thentic than its earlier. Tarik, as we have told in 



32 HISTORICAL TALES. 

the previous tale, had been sent to Andalusia by 
Musa, the caliph's viceroy in Africa, simply that he 
might gain a footing in the land, whose conquest 
Musa reserved for himself. But the impetuous Tarik 
was not to be restrained. No sooner was Eoderic 
slain and his army dispersed than the Arab cavaliers 
spread far and wide through Spain, city after city 
falling into their hands, until it seemed as if nothing 
would be left for Musa to conquer. 

This state of affairs was far from agreeable to the 
jealous and ambitious viceroy. He sent messengers 
to the caliph at Damascus, in which he claimed the 
conquest of Spain as his own, and barely mentioned 
the name of the real conqueror. He severely blamed 
Tarik for presuming to conquer a kingdom without 
direct orders, and, gathering an army, he crossed to 
Spain, that he might rightfully claim a share in the 
glory of the conquest. 

Tarik was not ignorant of what Musa had done. 
He expected to be called sharply to account by his 
jealous superior, and knew well that his brilliant 
deeds had been overlooked in the viceroy's de- 
spatches to Damascus, then the capital of the Arab 
empire. The daring soldier was therefore full of joy 
when the table of Solomon fell into his hands. He 
hoped to win favor from Al-Walid, the caUph, by 
presenting him this splendid prize. Yet how was 
he to accomplish this? Would not Musa, who was 
well aware of the existence and value of the table, 
claim it as his own and send it to Al-Walid with the 
false story that he had won it by the power of his 
arms? 



THE TABLE OP SOLOMON. 33 

To defeat this probable act Tarik devised a shrewd 
stratagem. The table, as has been stated, was 
abundantly provided with feet, but of these four 
were larger than the rest. One of the latter Tarik 
took off and concealed, to be used in the future if 
what he feared should come to pass. 

As it proved, he had not misjudged his jealous lord. 
In due time Musa came to Toledo and rode in state 
through the gate-way of that city, Tarik following 
like a humble servitor in his train. As soon as he 
reached the palace he haughtily demanded a strict 
account of the spoils. These were at hand, and were 
at once delivered up. Their number and value should 
have satisfied his avarice, but the wonderful table of 
Solomon, of which he had heard such marvellous 
accounts, was not among them, and he demanded 
that this, too, should be brought forward. As Tarik 
had foreseen, he designed to send it to the caliph, as 
an acceptable present and an evidence of his victori- 
ous career. 

The table was produced, and Musa gazed upon it 
with eyes of delight. His quick glance, however, 
soon discovered that one of the emerald feet was 
missing. 

" It is imperfect," he said. " Where is the missing 
foot?" 

" That I cannot tell you," replied Tarik ; " you 
have the table as it was brought to me." 

Musa, accepting this answer without suspicion, 
gave orders that the lost foot should be replaced with 
one of gold. Then, after thanking the other leading 
officers for their zeal and valor, he turned upon Tarik 

3 



34 HISTORICAL TALES. 

and accused him in severe tones of disobedience. 
He ended by depriving him of his command and 
putting him under an'est, while he sent the caliph a 
report in which Tarik was sharply blamed and the 
merit of his exploits made light of. He would have 
gone farther and put him to death, but this he dared 
not do without the caliph's orders. 

As it proved, Al-Walid, the Commander of the 
Faithful, knew something of the truth. Far distant 
as Damascus was from Toledo, a report of Tarik's 
exploits had reached his august ears, and Musa re- 
ceived orders to replace him in his command, since 
it would not do " to render useless one of the best 
swords of Islam." Musa dared not disobey; and 
thus, for the time being, Tarik triumphed. 

And now, for the end of the trouble between Musa 
and Tarik, we must go forward in time. They were 
left in Spain until they had completed the conquest 
of that kingdom, then both were ordered to appear 
before the caliph's judgment seat. This they did in 
different methods. Tarik, who had no thirst for 
spoil, made haste, with empty hands, to Damascus, 
where, though he had no rich presents for the com- 
mander of the faithful, he delighted him with the 
story of his brilliant deeds. Musa came more slowly 
and with more ostentation. Leaving his sons in 
command in Spain and Africa, he journeyed slowly 
to Syria, with all the display of a triumphal march. 
With him were one hundred of his principal officers, 
as many sons of the highest Berber chiefs, and the 
kinsrs of the Balearic Islands in all their barbaric 
state. In his train rode four hundred captive nobles, 



THE TABLE OP SOLOMON. 35 

each wearing a crown and girdle of gold, and thirty 
thousand captives of lower rank. At intervals in 
the train were camels and wagons, richly laden with 
gold, jewels, and other spoils. He brought to the 
East the novelties of the West, hawks, mules, and 
Barbary horses, and the curious fruits of Africa and 
Spain, " treasures," we are told, " the like of which 
no hearer ever heard of before, and no beholder ever 
saw before his eyes." 

Thus the proud conqueror came, by slow marches, 
with frequent halts. He left Spain in August, 713. 
It was February, 715, when he reached the vicinity 
of Damascus, having spent a year and a half on the 
way. 

Meanwhile, changes had taken place in Syria. 
Al-Walid, the caliph, was sick unto death, suffering 
from a mortal disease. Soliman, his brother and 
heir, wrote to Musa when at Tiberias, on the Sea of 
Galilee, asking him to halt there, as his brother could 
live but a few days. He, as the new caliph, would 
receive him. Al-Walid in turn ordered him to hasten 
his march. Musa was in a quandary. If Al-Walid 
should live, delay might be fatal. If he should die, 
haste might be fatal. He took what seemed to him 
the safest course, hastened to Damascus, and met 
with a brilliant reception. But a change soon came ; 
in forty days Al-Walid died ; Soliman, whom he had 
disobeyed, was caliph of the empire. Musa's sun 
was near its setting. 

It was not long before the conqueror found him- 
self treated as a criminal. He was charged with 
rapacity, injustice to Tarik, and the purpose of 



36 HISTORICAL TALES. 

throwing all power into the hands of his sons. He 
was even accused of " disobedience" for making a 
triumphal entry into Damascus before the death of 
Al-Walid. These and other charges were brought, 
Soliman being bent on the ruin of the man who had 
added Africa to the Arabian empire. 

When Musa was brought before the caliph for a 
final hearing Tarik and many other soldiers from 
Spain were present, and there stood before the mon- 
arch's throne the splendid table of Solomon, one of 
the presents whicli Musa had made to Al-Walid, de- 
claring it to be the most magnificent of all the prizes 
of his valor. 

" Tell me," said the caliph to Tarik, " if you know 
whence this table came." 

" It was found by me," answered Tarik. " If you 
would have evidence of the truth of my words, O 
caliph, have it examined and see if it be perfect." 

Soliman gave orders, the table was closely ex- 
amined, and it was soon discovered that one of its 
emerald feet was gone and that a foot of gold occu- 
pied its place. 

"Ask Musa," said Tarik, "if this was the condi- 
tion of the table when he found it." 

"Yes," answered Musa, "it was as you see it 
now." 

Tarik answered by taking from under his mantle 
the foot of emerald which he had removed, and 
which just matched the others. 

"You may learn now," he said to the caliph, 
"which of us is the truth-teller. Here is the lost 
leg of the table. I found the table and kept this for 



THE TABLE OF SOLOMON. 37 

evidence. It is the same with most of the treasures 
Musa has shown you. It was I who won them and 
captured the cities in which they were found. Ask 
any of these soldiers if I speak the truth or not." 

These words were ruinous to Musa. The table 
had revenged its finder. If Musa had lied in this 
case, he had lied in all. So held the angry caliph, 
who turned upon him with bitter abuse, calling him 
thief and liar, and swearing by Allah that he would 
crucify him. In the end he ordered the old man, 
fourscore years of age, corpulent and asthmatic, to 
be exposed to the fierce sun of Syria for a whole 
summer's day, and bade his brother Omar to see that 
the cruel sentence was executed. 

Until high noon had passed the old warrior stood 
under the scorching solar rays, his blood at length 
seeming to boil in his veins, while he sank suffocated 
to the earth. Death would soon have ended his 
suffering had not Omar, declaring "that he had 
never passed a worse day in his life," prevailed upon 
the caliph to abridge his punishment. 

Bent upon his utter ruin, the vindictive Soliman 
laid upon him the enormous fine of four million and 
thirty thousand dinars, equal to about ten million 
dollars. His sons were left in power in Spain that 
they might aid him in paying the fine. Great as 
the sum was, Musa, by giving up his own fortune, 
by the aid of his sons in Africa and Spain, and by 
assistance from his friends, succeeded in obtaining 
it. But even this did not satisfy the caliph, who 
now banished him to his birthplace, that his early 
friends might see and despise him in his ruin. He 



38 HISTORICAL TALES. 

even determined to destroy hig sons, that the whole 
family might be rooted out and none be left in whose 
veins the blood of Musa ran. 

The ablest of these sons, Abdul-Aziz, had been left 
in chief command over Spain. Thither the caliph 
sent orders for his death. Much as the young ruler 
was esteemed, wisely as he had ruled, no one thought 
of questioning an order of the Commander of the 
Faithful, the mighty autocrat of the great Arabian 
empire, and the innocent Abdul was assassinated by 
some who had been among his chief friends. His 
head was then cut off, embalmed, and sent to Soli- 
man, before whom it was laid, enclosed in a casket 
of precious wood. 

Sending for Musa, the vindictive caliph had the 
casket opened in his presence, saying, as the death- 
like features appeared, "Do you know whose head 
that is ?" 

The answer of Musa was a pathetic one. Never 
was there a Moslem, he said, who less deserved such 
a fate ; never a man of milder heart, braver soul, or 
more pious and obedient disposition. In the end 
the poor old man broke down, and he could only 
murmur, — 

" Grant me his head, O Commander of the Faith- 
ful, that I may shut the lids of his eyes." 

" Thou mayest take it," was Soliman's reply. 

And so Musa left the caliph's presence, heart- 
broken and disconsolate. It is said that before he 
died he was forced to beg his bread. Of Tarik we 
hear no more. He had fully repaid Musa for his 
injustice, but the caliph, who perhaps feared to let 



THE TABLE OP SOLOMON. 39 

any one become too great, failed to restore him to 
his command, and he disappeared from history. 
The cruel Soliman lived only a year after the death 
of the victim of his rage. He died in 717, of re- 
morse for his injustice to Musa, say some, but the 
record of history is that he was defeated before Con- 
stantinople and died of grief. 

Thus ends our story of the table of Solomon. It 
brought good to none who had to do with it, and 
utter disaster to him who had made it an agent of 
falsehood and avarice. Injustice cannot hope to 
hide itself behind a talisman. 



THE STORY OF QUEEN EXILONA. 

When Eoderic overthrew the ancient dynasty of 
Spain and made himself king, he had the defences 
of the cities thrown down that they might not give 
shelter to his enemies. Only the walls of the frontier 
cities were left, and among these was the ancient 
city of Denia, on the Mediterranean shores. Dread 
of the Moorish pirates was felt in this stronghold, 
and a strong castle was built on a high rock that 
overlooked the sea. To the old alcaide who served 
as governor of Denia word was brought, at the end 
of a day of fierce tempest, that a Moorish ship was 
approaching the shore. Instantly the bells were 
rung to rouse the people, and signal fires were 
kindled on the tower that they might flash from 
peak to peak the news of an invasion by the Moors. 

But as the ship came closer it was seen that alarm 
had been taken too soon. The vessel was alone and 
had evidently been in the grip of the tempest. It 
was seen to be a bark rich in carving and gilding, 
adorned with silken banderoles, and driven through 
the water by banks of crimson oars ; a vessel of state 
and ceremony, not a ship of war. As it came nearer 
it was perceived to have suffered severely in the 
ruthless grasp of the storm. Broken were its masts 
and shattered its oars, while there fluttered in the 
wind the torn remnants of its banners and sails. 
40 



THE STORY OF QUEEN EXILONA. 41 

When at length it grounded on the sands below the 
castle the proud bark was little better than a shat- 
tered wreck. 

It was with deep curiosity that the Spaniards saw 
on the deck of the stranded bark a group of high- 
born Moors, men and maidens dressed in robes of 
silk rich with jewels, and their features bearing the 
stamp of lofty rank. In their midst stood a young 
lady of striking beauty, sumptuously attired, and evi- 
dently of the highest station, for all paid her rever- 
ence, and a guard of armed Moors stood around her, 
scimitar in hand. 

On landing, a venerable Moor approached the al- 
caide, who had descended to meet the strangers, and 
said, in such words of the Gothic language as he 
could command, — 

" Worthy sir, we beg your protection and com- 
passion. The princess under our care is the only 
daughter of the king of Algiers, on her way to the 
court of the king of Tunis, to whom she is betrothed. 
The tempest has driven us to your shores. Be not, 
we implore you, more cruel than the storm, which 
has spared us and our precious charge." 

The alcaide returned a courteous answer, offering 
the princess and her train the shelter of the castle, 
but saying that he had not the power to release them. 
They must hold themselves the captives of Eoderic, 
the king of the Goths, to whom his duty required 
him to send them. The fate of a royal captive, he 
said, could be decided only by the royal voice. 

Some days afterwards Elyata, the Moorish prin- 
cess, entered Toledo in a procession more like that of 



42 HISTORICAL TALES. 

a triumphant heroine than of a captive. A band of 
Christian horsemen preceded the train. The Moorish 
guard, richly attired, followed. In the midst rode 
the princess, surrounded by her maidens and dressed 
in her bridal robes, which were resplendent with 
pearls, diamonds, and other gems. Eoderic ad- 
vanced in state from his palace to receive her, and 
was so struck with her beauty and dignity of aspect 
that at first sight warm emotions filled his heart. 

Elyata was sadly downcast at her captivity, but 
Eoderic, though not releasing her, did all he could 
to make her lot a pleasant one. A royal palace was 
set aside for her residence, in whose spacious apart- 
ments and charming groves and gardens the grief 
of the princess gradually softened and passed away. 
Eoderic, moved by a growing passion, frequently 
visited her, and in time soft sentiments woke in her 
heart for the handsome and courteous king. When, 
in the end, he begged her to become his bride her 
blushes and soft looks spoke consent. 

One thing was wanting. Eoderic's bride should 
be a Christian. Taught the doctrines of the new 
faith by learned bishops, love as much as conviction 
won Elyata's consent, and the Moorish princess was 
baptized as a Christian maiden under the new name 
of Exilona. The marriage was celebrated with the 
greatest magnificence, and was followed by tourneys 
and banquets and all the gayeties of the time. Some 
of the companions of the princess accepted the new 
faith and remained with her. Those who clung to 
their old belief were sent back to Africa with rich 
presents from the king, an embassy going with them 



THE STORY OF QUEEN EXILONA. 43 

to inform the monarch of Algiers of his daughter's 
marria2:e, and to offer him the alliance and friend- 
ship of Eoderic the Gothic king. 

Queen Exilona passed a happy life as the bride of 
the Gothic monarch, but many were the vicissitudes 
which lay before her, for the Arab conquest was 
near at hand and its effects could not but bear heavily 
upon her destiny. After the defeat and death of 
Eoderic a considerable number of noble Goths sought 
shelter in the city of Merida, among them the 
widowed queen. Thither came Musa with a large 
army and besieged the city. It was strongly and 
bravely defended, and the gallant garrison only 
yielded when famine came to the aid of their foes. 

A deputation from the city sought the Arab camp 
and was conducted to the splendid pavilion of Musa, 
whom the deputies found to be an old man with 
long white beard and streaming white hair. He re- 
ceived them kindly, praised them for their valor, 
and offered them favorable terms. They returned 
the next day to complete the conditions. On this 
day the Mohammedan fast of Ramadhan ended, and 
the Arabs, who had worn their meanest garb, were 
now in their richest attire, and joy had everywhere 
succeeded penitent gloom. As for Musa, he seemed 
transformed. The meanly dressed and hoary an- 
cient of the previous visit now appeared a man in 
the prime of life, his beard dark-red in hue, and his 
robes rich with gold and jewels. The Goths, to 
whom the art of dyeing the hair was unknown, 
looked on the transformation as a miracle. 

" We have seen," they said on their return, " their 



44 HISTORICAL TALES. 

king, who was an old man, become a young one. We 
have to do with a nation of prophets who can change 
their appearance at will and transform themselves 
into any shape they like. Our advice is that we 
should grant Musa his demands, for men like these 
we cannot resist." 

The stratagem of the Arab was successful, the 
gates were opened, and Merida became a captive city. 
The people were left their private wealth and were 
free to come and go as they would, with the excep- 
tion of some of their noblest, who were to be held as 
hostages. Among these was the widowed Queen 
Exilona. 

She was still young and beautiful. By paying 
tribute she was allowed to live unmolested, and in this 
way she passed to the second phase of her romantic 
career. Arab fancy has surrounded her history with 
many surprising incidents, and Lope de Vega, the 
Spanish dramatist, has made her the heroine of a 
romantic play, but her actual history is so full of 
interest that we need not draw contributions from 
fable or invention. 

When Musa went to Syria at the command of the 
caliph he left his son Abdul- Aziz as emir or governor 
of Spain. The new emir was a young, handsome, 
and gallant man. He had won fame in Africa, and 
gained new repute for wisdom and courage in Spain. 
The Moorish princess who had become a Gothic queen 
was now a hostage in his hands, and her charms 
moved his susceptible heart. His persuasive tongue 
and attractive person were not without their effect 
upon the fair captive, who a second time lost her 



THE STORY OF QUEEN EXILONA. 45 

heart to her captor, and agreed once more to become 
a bride. Her first husband had been the king of 
Gothic Spain. Her second was the ruler of Moorish 
Spain. She decKned to yield her Christian creed, 
but she became his wife and the queen of his heart, 
called by him Ummi-Assam, a name of endearment 
common in Arab households. 

Exilona was ambitious, and sought to induce her 
new husband to assume the style of a king. Sbe 
made him a crown of gold and precious stones which 
her soft persuasion induced him to wear. She bowed 
in his presence as if to a royal potentate, and to 
oblige the nobles to do the same she induced him to 
have the door-way of his audience chamber made so 
low that no one could enter it without making an 
involuntary bow. She even tried to convert him to 
Christianity, and built a low door to her oratory, so 
that any one entering would seem to bow to the 
cross. 

These arts of the queen proved fatal to the prince 
whom she desired to exalt, for this and other stories 
were told to the caliph, who was seeking some excuse 
to proceed against the sons of Musa, whose ruin he 
had sworn. It was told him that Abdul- Aziz was 
seeking to make Spain independent and was bowing 
before strange gods. Soliman asked no more, but 
sent the order for his death. 

It was to friends of the emir that the fatal man- 
date was sent. They loved the mild Abdul, but they 
were true sons of Islam, and did not dare to question 
the order of the Commander of the Faithful. The 
emir was then at a villa near Seville, whither he was 



46 HISTORICAL TALES. 

accustomed to withdraw from the cares of state to 
the society of his beloved wife. ]N'ear by he had 
built a mosque, and here, on the morning of his 
death, he entered and began to read the Koran. 

A noise at the door disturbed him, and in a moment 
a throng burst into the building. At their head was 
Habib, his trusted friend, who rushed upon him and 
struck him with a dagger. The emir was unhurt, 
and sought to escape, but the others were quickly 
upon him, and in a moment his body was rent with 
dagger strokes and he had fallen dead. His head 
was at once cut off, embalmed, and sent to the caliph. 
The cruel use made of it we have told. 

A wild commotion followed when the people 
learned of this murder, but it was soon quelled. 
The power of the caliph was yet too strong to be 
questioned, even in far-off Spain. What became of 
Exilona we do not know. Some say that she was 
slain with her husband ; some that she survived him 
and died in privacy. However it be, her life was 
one of singular romance. 

As for the kindly and unfortunate emir, his 
memory was long fondly cherished in Spain, and 
his name still exists in the title of a valley in the 
suburbs of Antequera, which was named Abdelaxis 
in his honor. 



PELISTES, THE DEFENDER OF 
CORDOVA. 

No sooner had Tarik defeated the Christian army 
on the fatal field of Sidonia than he sent out detach- 
ments of horsemen in all directions, hoping to win 
the leading cities of Spain before the people should 
recover from their terror. One of these detach- 
ments, composed of seven hundred horse, was sent 
against Cordova, an ancient city which was to be- 
come the capital of Moslem Spain. This force was 
led by a brave soldier named Magued, a Eoman or 
Greek by birth, who had been taken prisoner when 
a chil(i and reared in the Arab faith. He now 
ranked next to Tarik in the arts and stratagems of 
war, and as a horseman and warrior was the model 
and admiration of his followers. 

Among the Christian leaders who had fled from 
the field of the Guadalete was an old and valiant 
Gothic noble, Pelistes by name, who had fought in 
the battle front until his son sank in death and most 
of his followers had fallen around him. Then, with 
the small band left him, he rode in all haste to Cor- 
dova, which he hoped to hold as a stronghold of the 
Goths. But he found himself almost alone in the 
town, most of whose inhabitants had fled with their 
valuables, so that, including the invalids and old 

47 



48 HISTORICAL TALES. 

soldiers found there, he had but four hundred men 
with whom to defend the city. 

A river ran south of the city and formed one of 
its defences. To its banks came Magued, — led, say 
some of the chronicles, by the traitor, Count Julian, 
— and encamped in a forest of pines. He sent her- 
alds to the town, demanding its surrender, and 
threatening its defenders with death if they resisted. 
But Pelistes defied him to do his worst. 

What Magued might have found difficult to do by 
force he accomplished by stratagem. A shepherd 
whom he had captured told him of the weakness of 
the garrison, and acquainted him with a method by 
which the city might be entered. Forcing the rustic 
to act as guide, Magued crossed the river on a stormy 
night, swimming the stream with his horses, each 
cavalier having a footman mounted behind him. 
By the time they reached the opposite shore the 
rain had changed to hail, whose loud pattering 
drowned the noise of the horses' hoofs as the assail- 
ants rode to a weak place in the wall of which the 
shepherd had told them. Here the battlements were 
broken and part of the wall had fallen, and near by 
grew a fig-tree whose branches stretched towards 
the breach. Up this climbed a nimble soldier, and 
by hard effort reached the broken wall. He had 
taken with him Magued's turban, whose long folds 
of linen were unfolded and let down as a rope, by 
whose aid others soon climbed to the summit. The 
storm had caused the sentries to leave their posts, 
and this part of the wall was left unguarded. 

In a short time a considerable number of the as- 



PELISTES, THE DEFENDER OF CORDOVA. 49 

sailants had gained the top of the wall. Leaping 
from the parapet, they entered the city and ran to 
the nearest gate, which they flung open to Magued 
and his force. The city was theirs ; the alarm was 
taken too late, and all who resisted were cut down. 
By day-dawn Cordova was lost to Spain with the 
exception of the church of St. George, a large and 
strong edifice, in which Pelistes had taken refuge 
with the remnant of his men. Here he found an 
ample supply of food and obtained water from some 
secret source, so that he was enabled to hold out 
against the enemy. 

For three long months the brave garrison defied 
its foes, though Magued made every eifort to take 
the church. How they obtained water was what 
most puzzled him, but he finally discovered the 
secret through the aid of a negro whom the Chris- 
tians had captured and who escaped from their 
hands. The prisoner had learned during his cap- 
tivity that the church communicated by an under- 
ground channel with a spring somewhere without. 
This was sought for with diligence and at length 
found, whereupon the water supply of the garrison 
was cut off at its source, and a new summons to sur- 
render was made. 

There are two stories of what afterwards took 
place. One is that the garrison refused to surren- 
der, and that Magued, deeply exasperated, ordered 
the church to be set on fire, most of its defenders 
perishing in the flames. The other story is a far 
more romantic one, and perhaps as likely to be true. 
This tells us that Pelistes, weary of long waiting for 

4 



60 HISTORICAL TALES. 

assistance from without, determined to leave the 
church in search of aid, promising, in case of failure, 
to return and die with his friends. 

Mounted on the good steed that he had kept alive 
in the church, and armed with lance, sword, and 
shield, the valiant warrior set forth before the dawn, 
and rode through the silent streets, unseen by senti- 
nel or early wayfarer. The vision of a Christian 
knight on horseback was not likely to attract much 
attention, as there were many renegade Christians 
with the Moors, brought thither in the train of 
Count Julian. Therefore, when the armed warrior 
presented himself at a gate of the city just as a for- 
aging party was entering, he rode forth unnoticed 
in the confusion and galloped briskly away towards 
the neighboring mountains. 

Having reached there he stopped to rest, but to 
his alarm he noticed a horseman in hot pursuit upon 
his trail. Spurring his steed onward, Pelistes now 
made his way into the rough intricacies of the 
mountain paths ; but, unluckily, as he was passing 
along the edge of a declivity, his horse stumbled and 
rolled down into the ravine below, so bruising and 
cutting him in the fall that, when he struggled to 
his feet, his face was covered with blood. 

While he was in this condition the pursuer rode 
up. It proved to be Magued himself, who had seen 
him leave the city and had followed in haste. To 
his sharp summons for surrender the good knight 
responded by drawing his sword, and, wounded and 
bleeding as he was, put himself in posture for de- 
fence. 



PELISTES, THE DEFENDER OF CORDOVA. 51 

The fight that followed was as fierce as some of 
those told of King Arthur's knights. Long and 
sturdily the two champions fought, foot to foot, 
sword to scimitar, until their shields and armor were 
rent and hacked and the ground was red with their 
blood. Never had those hills seen so furious a fight 
by so well-matched champions, and during their 
breathing spells the two knights gazed upon each 
other with wonder and admiration. Magued had 
never met so able an antagonist before, nor Pelistes 
encountered so skilfully wielded a blade. 

But the Grothic warrior had been hurt by his fall. 
This gave Magued the advantage, and he sought to 
take his noble adversary alive. Finally, weak from 
loss of blood, the gallant Goth gave a last blow and 
fell prostrate. In a moment Magued's point was at 
his throat, and he was bidden to ask for his life or 
die. No answer came. Unlacing the helmet of the 
fallen knight, Magued found him insensible. As he 
debated with himself how he would get the captive 
of his sword to the city, a group of Moorish cavaliers 
rode up and gazed with astonishment on the marks 
of the terrible fight. The Christian knight was 
placed by them on a spare horse and carried to Cor- 
dova's streets. 

As the train passed the beleaguered church its 
garrison, seeing their late leader a captive in Moor- 
ish hands, sallied fiercely out to his rescue, and for 
some minutes the street rang sharply with the 
sounds of war. But numbers gathered to the de- 
fence, the assailants were driven back, and the 
church was entered by their foes, the clash of arms 



52 HISTORICAL TALES. 

resounding within its sacred precincts. In the end 
most of the garrison were killed and the rest made 
prisoners. 

The wounded knight was tenderly cared for by 
his captor, soon regaining his senses, and in time 
recovering his health. Magued, who had come to 
esteem him highly, celebrated his return to health 
by a magnificent banquet, at which every honor was 
done the noble knight. The Arabs knew well how 
to reward valor, even in a foe. 

In the midst of the banquet Pelistes spoke of 
a noble Christian knight he once had known, his 
brother in arms and the cherished friend of his 
heart, one whom he had most admired and loved of 
all the Gothic host, — his old and dear comrade, Count 
Julian. 

" He is here I" cried some of the Arabs, enthusias- 
tically, pointing to a knight who had recently en- 
tered. " Here is your old friend and comrade. Count 
Julian." 

" That Julian !" cried Pelistes, in tones of scorn ; 
" that traitor and renegade my friend and comrade ! 
No, no ; this is not Julian, but a fiend from hell 
who has entered his body to bring him dishonor and 
ruin." 

Turning scornfully away he strode proudly from 
the room, leaving the traitor knight, overwhelmed 
with shame and confusion, the centre of a circle of 
scornful looks, for the Arabs loved not the traitor, 
however they might have profited by his treason. 

The fate of Pelistes, as given in the Arab chroni- 
cles, was a tragic one. Magued, who had never 



PELISTES, THE DEFENDER OF CORDOVA. 53 

before met his equal at sword play, proposed to send 
him to Damascus, thinking that so brave a man 
would be a fitting present to the caliph and a living 
testimony to his own knightly prowess. But others 
valued the prize of valor as well as Magued, Tarik 
demanding that the valiant prisoner should be de- 
livered to him, and Musa afterwards claiming posses- 
sion. The controversy ended in a manner suitable 
to the temper of the times, Magued slaying the cap- 
tive with his own hand rather than deliver to others 
the prize of his sword and shield. 



THE STRATAGEM OF THEO- 
DOMIR. 

The defeat of the Guadalete seemed for the time 
to have robbed the Goths of all their ancient courage. 
East and west, north and south, rode the Arab horse- 
men, and stronghold after stronghold fell almost 
without resistance into their hands, until nearly the 
whole of Spain had surrendered to the scimitar. 
History has but a few stories to tell of valiant de- 
fence by the Gothic warriors. One was that of Pe- 
listes, at Cordova, which we have just told. The 
other was that of the wise and valorous Theodomir, 
which we have next to relate. 

Abdul- Aziz, Musa's noble son, whose sad fate we 
have chronicled, had been given the control of South- 
ern Spain, with his head-quarters in Seville. Here, 
after subduing the Comarca, he decided on an in- 
vasion of far-off Murcia, the garden-land of the 
south, a realm of tropic heat, yet richly fertile and 
productive. There ruled a valiant Goth named Theo- 
domir, who had resisted Tarik on his landing, had 
fought in the fatal battle in which Koderic fell, and 
had afterwards, with a bare remnant of his followers, 
sought his own territory, which after him was called 
the land of Tadmir. 

Hither marched Abdul-Aziz, eager to meet in battle 
64 



THE STRATAGEM OP THEODOMIR. 55 

a warrior of such renown, and to add to his domin- 
ions a country so famed for beauty and fertility. 
He was to find Theodomir an adversary worthy of 
his utmost powers. So small was the force of the 
Gothic lord that he dared not meet the formidable 
Arab horsemen in open contest, but he checked their 
advance by all the arts known in war, occupying the 
mountain defiles and gorges through which his 
country must be reached, cutting off detachments, 
and making the approach of the Arabs difficult and 
dangerous. 

His defence was not confined to the hills. At 
times he would charge fiercely on detached parties 
of Arabs in the valleys or plains, and be off again to 
cover before the main force could come up. Long he 
defeated every effort of the Arab leader to bring on 
an open battle, but at length found himself cornered 
at Lorca, in a small valley at a mountain's foot. 
Here, though the Goths fought bravely, they found 
themselves too greatly outnumbered, and in the end 
were put to panic-flight, numbers of them being left 
dead on the hotly contested field. 

The handful of fugitives, sharply pursued by the 
Moorish cavalry, rode in all haste to the fortified 
town of Orihuela, a place of such strength that with 
sufficient force they might have defied there the 
powerful enemy. But such had been their losses in 
battle and in flight that Theodomir found himself 
far too weak to face the Moslem host, whose ad- 
vance cavalry had followed so keenly on his track as 
to reach the outer walls by the time he had fairly 
closed the gates. 



56 HISTORICAL TALES. 

Defence was impossible. He had not half enough 
men to guard the walls and repel assaults. It would 
have been folly to stand a siege, yet Theodomir did 
not care to surrender except on favorable terms, and 
therefore adopted a shrewd stratagem to deceive the 
enemy in regard to his strength. 

To the surprise of the Arab leader the walls of the 
town, which he had thought half garrisoned, seemed 
to swarm with armed and bearded warriors, far too 
great a force to be overcome by a sudden dash. In 
the face of so warlike an array, caution awoke in 
the hearts of the assailants. They had looked for 
an easy victory, but against such numbers as these 
assault might lead to severe bloodshed and eventual 
defeat. They felt that it would be necessary to pro- 
ceed by the slow and deliberate methods of a regu- 
lar siege. 

While Abdul-Aziz was disposing his forces and 
making heedful preparations for the task he saw 
before him, he was surprised to see the principal 
gate of the city thrown open and a single Gothic 
horseman ride forth, bearing a flag of truce and 
making signals for a parley. A safe-conduct was 
given him, and he was led to the tent of the Moslem 
chief. 

" Theodomir has sent me to negotiate with you," 
he said, "and I have full power to conclude terms 
of surrender. We are abundantly able to hold out, 
as you may see by the forces on our walls, but as we 
wish to avoid bloodshed we are willing to submit on 
honorable terms. Otherwise we will defend our- 
selves to the bitter end." 



I 



THE STRATAGEM OP THEODOMIR. 67 

The boldness and assurance with which he spoke 
deeply impressed the Arab chief. This was not a 
fearful foe seeking for mercy, but a daring antago- 
nist as ready to fight as to yield. 

" What terms do you demand ?" asked Abdul- Aziz. 

"My lord," answered the herald, "will only sur- 
render on such conditions as a generous enemy 
should grant and a valiant people receive. He de- 
mands peace and security for the province and its 
people and such authority for himself as the strength 
of his walls and the numbers of his garrison justify 
him in demanding." 

The wise and clement Arab saw the strength of 
the argument, and, glad to obtain so rich a province 
without further loss of life, he assented to the terms 
proposed, bidding the envoy to return and present 
them to his chief. The Gothic knight replied that 
there was no need of this, he having full power to 
sign the treaty. The terms were therefore drawn 
up and signed by the Arab general, after which the 
envoy took the pen and, to the astonishment of the 
victor, signed the name of Theodomir at the foot of 
the document. It was the Gothic chief himself. 

Pleased alike with his confidence and his clever- 
ness, Abdul- Aziz treated the Gothic knight with the 
highest honor and distinction. At the dawn of the 
next day the gates of the city were thrown open for 
surrender, and Abdul- Aziz entered at the head of a 
suitable force. But when the garrison was drawn 
up in the centre of the city for surrender, the sur- 
prise of the Moslem became deep amazement. What 
he saw before him was a mere handful of stalwart 



58 HISTORICAL TALES. 

soldiers, eked out with feeble old men and boys. 
But the main body before him was composed of 
women, whom the astute Goth had bidden to dress 
like men and to tie their long hair under their chins 
to represent beards ; when, with casques on their 
heads and spears in their hands, they had been ranged 
along the walls, looking at a distance like a line of 
sturdy warriors. 

Theodomir waited with some anxiety, not knowing 
how the victor would regard this stratagem. Abdul 
might well have viewed with anger the capitulation 
of an army of women and dotards, but he had a 
sense of humor and a generous heart, and the smile 
of amusement on his face told the Gothic chief that 
he was fully forgiven for his shrewd stratagem. 
Admiration was stronger than mortification in the 
Moslem's heart. He praised Theodomir for his witty 
and successful expedient, and for the three days that 
he remained at Orihuela banquets and fetes marked 
his stay, he occupying the position of a guest rather 
than an enemy. No injury was done to people or 
town, and the Arabs soon left the province to con- 
tinue their career of conquest, satisfied with the ar- 
rangements for tribute which they had made. 

By a strange chance the treaty of surrender of the 
land of Tadmir still exists. It is drawn up in Latin 
and in Arabic, and is of much interest as showing 
the mode in which such things were managed at that 
remote date. It stipulates that war shall not be 
waged against Theodomir, son of the Goths, and his 
people ; that he shall not be deprived of his kingdom ; 
that the Christians shall not be separated from their 



THE STRATAGEM OP THEODOMIR. 59 

wives and children, or hindered in the services of 
their religion ; and that their temples shall not he 
burned. Theodomir was left lord of seven cities, — 
Orihuela, Valencia, Alicante, Mula, Biscaret, Aspis, 
and Lorca, — in which he was to harbor no enemies 
of the Arabs. 

The tribute demanded of him and his nobles was a 
dinar (a gold coin) yearly from each, also four meas- 
ures each of wheat, barley, must, vinegar, honey, and 
oil. Vassals and taxable people were to pay half 
this amount. 

These conditions were liberal in the extreme. The 
tribute demanded was by no means heavy for a 
country so fertile, in which light culture yields 
abundant harvests ; the delightful valley between 
Orihuela and Murcia, in particular, being the garden 
spot of Spain. The inhabitants for a long period 
escaped the evils of war felt in other parts of the 
conquered territory, their province being occupied 
by only small garrisons of the enemy, while its dis- 
tance from the chief seat of war removed it from 
danger. 

After the murder of Abdul-Aziz, Theodomir sent 
an embassy to the Caliph Soli man, begging that the 
treaty should be respected. The caliph in reply sent 
orders that its stipulations should be faithfully ob- 
served. In this the land of Tadmir almost stood 
alone in that day, when treaties were usually made 
only to be set at naught. 



THE CAVE OF COVADONGA. 

Tarik landed in Spain in April, 711. So rapid 
were the Arabs in conquest that in two years from 
that date nearly the whole peninsula was in their 
hands. Not quite all, or history might have another 
story to relate. In a remote province of the once 
proud kingdom — a rugged northwest corner — a few 
of its fugitive sons remained in freedom, left alone 
by the Arabs partly through scorn, partly on ac- 
count of the rude and difficult character of their 
place of refuge. The conquerors despised them, yet 
this slender group was to form the basis of the Spain 
we know to-day, and to expand and spread until the 
conquerors would be driven from Spanish soil. 

The Goths had fled in all directions from their 
conquerors, taking with them such of their valuables 
as they could carry, some crossing the Pyrenees to 
France, some hiding in the mountain valleys, some 
seeking a place of refuge in the Asturias, a rough 
hill country cut up in all directions by steep, scarped 
rocks, narrow defiles, deep ravines, and tangled 
thickets. Here the formidable Moslem cavalry could 
not pursue them ; here no army could deploy ; here 
ten men might defy a hundred. The place was far 
from inviting to the conquerors, but in it was sown 
the seed of modern Spain. 

A motley crow it was that gathered in this rugged 
60 



THE CAVE OF COVADONGA. 61 

region, a medley of fugitives of all ranks and sta- 
tions, — soldiers, farmers, and artisans; nobles and 
vassals ; bishops and monks ; men, women, and chil- 
dren, — brought together by a terror that banished 
all distinctions of rank and avocation. For a number 
of years this small band of fugitive Christians, gath- 
ered between the mountains and the sea in north- 
western Spain, remained quiet, desiring only to be 
overlooked or disregarded by the conquerors. But 
in the year 717 a leader came to them, and Spain 
once more hfted her head in defiance of her in- 
vaders. 

Pelayo, the leader named, is a hero shrouded in 
mist. Fable surrounds him ; a circle of romantic 
stories have budded from his name. He is to us 
like his modern namesake, the one battle-ship of 
Spain, which, during the recent war, wandered up 
and down the Mediterranean with no object in view 
that any foreigner could discover. Of the original 
Pelayo, some who profess to know say that he was 
of the highest rank, — young, handsome, and heroic, 
one who had fought under Eoderic at the Guada- 
lete, had been held by the Arabs as a hostage at 
Cordova, and had escaped to his native hills, there 
to infuse new life and hope into the hearts of the 
fugitive group. 

Ibun Hayyan, an Arabian chronicler, gives the 
following fanciful account of Pelayo and his feeble 
band. " The commencement of the rebellion hap- 
pened thus : there remained no city, town, or village 
in Galicia but what was in the hands of the Moslems 
with the exception of a steep mountain, on which 



62 HISTORICAL TALES. 

this Pelayo took refuge with a handful of men. 
There his followers went on dying through hunger 
until he saw their numbers reduced to about thirty 
men and ten women, having no other food for sup- 
port than the honey which they gathered in the 
crevices of the rock, which they themselves inhab- 
ited like so many bees. However, Pelayo and his 
men fortified themselves by degrees in the passes 
of the mountain until the Moslems were made ac- 
quainted with their preparations; but, perceiving 
how few they were, they heeded not the advice given 
to them, but allowed them to gather strength, say- 
ing, *\yhat are thirty barbarians perched upon a 
rock ? They must inevitably die.' " 

Die they did not, that feeble relic of Spain on the 
mountain-side, though long their only care was for 
shelter and safety. Here Pelayo cheered them, 
doing his utmost to implant new courage in their 
fearful hearts. At length the day came when Spain 
could again assume a defiant attitude, and in the 
mountain valley of Caggas de On is Pelayo raised 
the old Gothic standard and ordered the beating of 
the drums. Beyond the sound of the long roll went 
his messengers seeking warriors in valley and glen, 
and soon his little band had grown to a thousand 
stalwart men, filled with his spirit and breathing 
defiance to the Moslem conquerors. That was an 
eventful day for Spain, in which her crushed people 
again lifted their heads. 

It was a varied throng that gathered around Pe- 
layo's banner. vSons of the Goths and the Eomans 
were mingled with descendants of the more ancient 



THE CAVE OF COVADONQA. 63 

Celts and Iberians. Eepresentatives of all the races 
that had overrun Spain were there gathered, speak- 
ing a dozen dialects, yet instinct with a single spirit. 
From them the modern Spaniard was to come, no 
longer Gothic or Eoman, but a descendant of all the 
tribes and races that had peopled Spain. Some of 
them carried the swords and shields they had wielded 
in the battle of the Guadalete, others brought the 
rude weapons of the mountaineers. But among 
them were strong hands and stout hearts, summoned 
by the drums of Pelayo to the reconquest of Spain. 

Word soon came to Al Horr, the new emir of 
Spain, that a handful of Christians were in arms in 
the mountains of the northwest, and he took instant 
steps to crush this presumptuous gathering, sending 
his trusty general Al Kamah with a force that 
seemed abundant to destroy Pelayo and his rebel 
band. 

Warning of the approach of the Moslem foe was 
quickly brought to the Spanish leader, who at once 
left his place of assembly for the cave of Covadonga, 
a natural fortress in Eastern Asturia, some five miles 
from Caggas de Onis, which he had selected as a 
place strikingly adapted to a defensive stand. Here 
rise three mountain-peaks to a height of nearly four 
thousand feet, enclosing a small circular valley, 
across which rushes the swift Diva, a stream issuing 
from Mount Orandi. At the base of Mount Auseva, 
the western peak, rises a detached rock, one hundred 
and seventy feet high, projecting from the mountain 
in the form of an arch. At a short distance above 
its foot is visible the celebrated cave or grotto of 



64 HISTORICAL TALES. 

Covadonga, an opening forty feet wide, twelve feet 
high, and extending twenty-five feet into the rock. 

The river sweeps out through a narrow and rocky 
defile, at whose narrowest part the banks rise in pre- 
cipitous walls. Down this ravine the stream rushes 
in rapids and cascades, at one point forming a pic- 
turesque waterfall seventy-five feet in height. Only 
through this straitened path can the cave be reached, 
and this narrow ravine and the valley within Pelayo 
proposed to hold with his slender and ill-armed 
force. 

Proudly onward came the Moslem captain, full of 
confidence in his powerful force and despising his 
handful of opponents. Pelayo drew him on into 
the narrow river passage by a clever stratagem. 
He had posted a small force at the mouth of the 
pass, bidding them to take to flight after a discharge 
of arrows. His plan worked well, the seeming re- 
treat giving assurance to the Moslems, who rushed 
forward in pursuit along the narrow ledge that bor- 
ders the Diva, and soon emerged into the broader 
path that opens into the valley of Covadonga. 

They had incautiously entered a cul-de-sac, in 
which their numbers were of no avail, and where a 
handful of men could hold an army at bay. A 
small body of the best armed of the Spaniards oc- 
cupied the cave, the others being placed in ambush 
among the chestnut-trees that covered the heights 
above the Diva. All kept silent until the Moslem ad- 
vance had emerged into the valley. Then the battle 
began, one of the most famous conflicts in the whole 
history of Spain, famous not for the numbers en- 



THE CAVE OP COVADONGA. 65 

gaged, but for tho issue involved. The future of 
Spain dwelt in the hands of that group of patriots. 
The fight in the valley was sharp, but one-sided. 
The Moslem arrows rebounded harmlessly from the 
rocky sides of the cave, whoso entrance could be 
reached only by a ladder, while the Christians, hurl- 
ing their missiles from their point of vantage into 
the crowded mass below, punished them so severely 
that the advance was forced back upon those that 
crowded the defile in the rear. Al Kamah, finding 
his army recoiling in dismay and confusion, and dis- 
covering too late his error, ordered a retreat ; but no 
sooner had a reverse movement been instituted than 
the ambushed Christians on the heights began their 
deadly work, hurling huge stones and fallen trees 
into the defile, killing the Moslems by hundreds, and 
choking up the pass until fiight became impossible. 

The panic was complete. From every side the 
Christians rushed upon the foe. Pelayo, bearing a 
cross of oak and crying that the Lord was fighting 
for his people, leaped downward from the cave, fol- 
lowed by his men, who fell with irresistible fury 
on the foe, forcing them backward under the brow 
of Mount Auseva, where Al Kamah strove to make 
a stand. 

The elements now came to tho aid of the Christians, 
a furious storm arising whose thunders reverberated 
among the rocks, while lightnings flashed luridly in 
the eyes of the terrified troops. The rain poured 
in blinding torrents, and soon the Diva, swollen with 
the sudden fall, rose into a flood, and swept away 
many of those who were crowded on its slippery 

6 



66 HISTORICAL TALES. 

banks. The heavens seemed leagued with the 
Christians against the Moslem host, whose de- 
struction was so thorough that, if we can credit the 
chronicles, not a man of the proud army escaped. 

This is doubtless an exaggeration, but the victory 
of Pelayo was complete and the first great step in 
the reconquest of Spain was taken. The year was 
717, six years after the landing of the Arabs and the 
defeat of the Groths. 

Thus ended perhaps the most decisive battle in 
the history of Spain. With it new Spain began. The 
cave of Covadonga is still a place of pilgrimage for 
the Spanish patriot, a stairway of marble replacing 
the ladder used by Pelayo and his men. We may 
tell what followed in a few words. Their terrible 
defeat cleared the territory of the Austurias of 
Moslem soldiers. From every side fugitive Chris- 
tians left their mountain retreats to seek the standard 
of Pelayo. Soon the patriotic and daring leader had 
an army under his command, by whom he was chosen 
king of Christian Spain. 

The Moslems made no further attack. They were 
discouraged by their defeat and were engaged in a 
project for the invasion of Gaul that required their 
utmost force. Pelayo slowly and cautiously extended 
his dominions, descending from the mountains into 
the plains and valleys, and organizing his new king- 
dom in civil as well as in military affairs. All the 
men under his control were taught to bear arms, 
fortifications were built, the ground was planted, and 
industry revived. Territory which the Moslems had 
abandoned was occupied, and from a group of sol- 




BARONIAL CASTLE IN OLD CASTILE. 



THE CAVE OF COVADONGA. 67 

diers in a mountain cavern a new nation began to 
emerge. 

Pelayo died at Caggas de Onis in the year 737) 
twenty yeara after his great victory. After his 
death the work he had begun was carried forward, 
until by the year 800 the Spanish dominion had ex- 
tended over much of Old Castile, — so called from its 
numerous castles. In a hundred years more it had 
extended to the borders of New Castile. The work 
of reconquest was slowly but surely under way. 



THE ADVENTURES OF A FUGI- 
TIVE PRINCE. 

A NEW dynasty came to the throne of the caliphs 
of Damascus in 750. The line of the Ommeyades, 
who had held the throne since the days of the 
Prophet Mohammed, was overthrown, and the line of 
the Abbassides began. Abdullah, the new caliph, bent 
on destroying every remnant of the old dynasty, in- 
vited ninety of its principal adherents to a banquet, 
where they were set upon and brutally murdered. 
There followed a scene worthy of a savage. The 
tables were removed, carpets were spread over the 
bleeding corpses, and on these the viands were placed, 
the guests eating their dinner to the dismal music of 
the groans of the dying victims beneath. 

The whole country was now scoured for all who 
were connected with the fallen dynasty, and wherever 
found they were brutally slain ; yet despite the vigi- 
lance of the murderers a scion of the family of the 
Ommeyades escaped. Abdurrahman, the princely 
youth in question, was fortunately absent from Da- 
mascus when the order for his assassination was 
given. Warned of his proposed fate, he gathered 
what money and jewels he could and fled for his life, 
following little-used paths until he reached the banks 
of the Euphrates. But spies were on his track and 
68 



THE ADVENTURES OP A FUGITIVE PRINCE. 69 

descriptions of him had been sent to all provinces. 
He was just twenty years old, and, unlike the Ara- 
bians in general, had a fair complexion and blue eyes, 
so that he could easily be recognized, and it seemed 
impossible that he could escape. 

His retreat on the Euphrates was quickly dis- 
covered, and the agents of murder were so hot upon 
his track that he was forced to spring into the river 
and seek for safety by swimming. The pursuers 
reached the banks when the fugitives were nearly 
half-way across, Abdurrahman supporting his son, 
four years of age, and Bedr, a servant, aiding his 
thirteen-year-old brother. The agents of the caliph 
called them back, saying that they would not harm 
them, and the boy, whose strength was giving out, 
turned back in spite of his brother's warning. When 
Abdurrahman reached the opposite bank, it was 
with a shudder of horror that he saw the murder 
of the boy, whose head was at once cut off. That 
gruesome spectacle decided the question of his 
trusting himself to the mercy of the caliph or his 
agents. 

The life of the fugitive prince now became one 
of unceasing adventure. He made his way by covert 
paths towards Egypt, wandering through the desert 
in company with bands of Bedouins, living on their 
scanty fare, and constantly on the alert against sur- 
prise. Light sleep and hasty Sittings were the rule 
with him and his few attendants as they made their 
way slowly westward over the barren sands, finally 
reaching Egypt. Here he was too near the caliph 
for safety, and he kept on westward to Barca, where 



70 HISTORICAL TALES. 

he hoped for protection from the governor, who 
owed his fortunes to the favor of the late caliph. 

He was mistaken. Ibn Habib, the governor of 
Barca, put self-interest above gratitude, and made 
vigorous efforts to seize the fugitive, whom he hoped 
to send as a welcome gift to the cruel Abdullah. 
The life of the fugitive was now one of hair-breadth 
escapes. For five years he remained in Barca, dis- 
guised and under a false name, yet in almost daily 
peril of his life. On one occasion a band of pur- 
suers surrounded the tent in which he was and ad- 
vanced to search it. His life was saved by Tekfah, 
the wife of the chief, who hid him under her clothes. 
When, in later years, he came to power, he rewarded 
the chief and his wife richly for their kindly 
aid. 

On another occasion a body of horse rode into the 
village of tents in which he dwelt as a guest and 
demanded that he should be given up. The hand- 
some aspect and gentle manner of the fugitive had 
made the tribesmen suspect that they were the hosts 
of a disguised prince ; he had gained a sure place in 
their hearts, and they set the pursuers on a false 
scent. Such a person was with them, they said, but 
he had gone with a number of young men on a lion 
hunt in a neighboring mountain valley and would 
not return until the next evening. The pursuers at 
once set off for the place mentioned, and the fugi- 
tive, who had been hidden in one of the tents, rode 
away in the opposite direction with his slender 
train. 

Leaving Barca, he journeyed farther westward 



THE ADVENTURES OF A FUGITIVE PRINCE. 71 

over the desert, which at that point comes down to 
the Mediterranean. Finally Tahart was reached, a 
town within the modern Algeria, the seat of the 
Beni Eustam, a tribe which gave him the kindliest 
welcome. To them, as to the Barcans, he seemed 
a prince in disguise. Near by was a tribe of Arabs 
named the Nefezah, to which his mother had be- 
longed, and from which he hoped for protection and 
assistance. Eeaching this, he told his rank and 
name, and was welcomed almost as a king, the 
tribesmen, his mother's kindred, paying him homage, 
and offering their aid to the extent of their ability 
in the ambitious scheme which he disclosed. 

This was an invasion of Spain, which at that time 
was a scene of confusion and turmoil, distracted by 
rival leaders, the people exhausted by wars and 
quarrels, many of their towns burned or ruined, and 
the country ravaged by famine. AYhat could be 
better than for the heir of the illustrious house of 
Ommeyades, flying from persecution by the Abbas- 
sides, and miraculously preserved, to seek the throne 
of Spain, bring peace to that distracted land, and 
found an independent kingdom in that western sec- 
tion of the vast Arabian empire ? 

His servant, Bedr, who had kept with him through 
all his varied career and was now his chief officer, 
was sent to Spain on a secret mission to the friends 
of the late dynasty of caliphs, of whom there were 
many in that land. Bedr was highly successful in 
his mission. Yusuf, the Abbasside emir, was absent 
from Cordova and ignorant of his danger, and all 
promised well. Not waiting for the assistance 



72 HISTORICAL TALES. 

promised him in Africa, the prince put to sea almost 
alone. As he was about to step on board his boat 
a number of Berbers gathered round and showed 
an intention to prevent his departure. They were 
quieted by a handful of dinars and he hastened on 
board, — none too soon, for another band, greedy for 
gold, rushed to the beach, some of them wading out 
and seizing the boat and the camel's-hair cable that 
held it to the anchor. These fellows got blows in- 
stead of dinars, one, who would not let go, having 
his hand cut off by a sword stroke. The edge of a 
scimitar cut the cable, the sail was set, and the 
lonely exile set forth upon the sea to the conquest 
of a kingdom. It was evening of a spring day of 
the year 756 that the fugitive prince landed near 
Malaga, in the land of Andalusia, where some promi- 
nent chiefs were in waiting to receive him with the 
homage due to a king. 

Hundreds soon flocked to the standard of the ad- 
venturer, whose manly and handsome presence, his 
beaming blue eyes, sweet smile, and gracious manner 
won him the friendship of all whom he met. With 
steadily growing forces he marched to Seville. Here 
were many of his partisans, and the people flung 
open the gates with wild shouts of welcome. It was 
in the month of May that the fortunes of Abdurrah- 
man were put to the test, Yusuf having hastily gath- 
ered a powerful force and advanced to the plain of 
Musarah, near Cordova, on which field the fate of 
the kingdom was to be decided. 

It was under a strange banner that Abdurrahman 
advanced to meet the army of the emir, — a turban 



THE ADVENTURES OP A FUGITIVE PRINCE. 73 

attached to a lance-head. This standard afterwards 
became sacred, the turban, as it grew ragged, being 
covered by a new one. At length the hallowed old 
rags were removed by an irreverent hand, *'and 
from that time the empire of the Beni Ummeyah 
began to decline." 

We may briefly conclude our tale. The battle 
was fierce, but Abdurrahman's boldness and courage 
prevailed, and the army of Yusuf in the end gave 
way, Cordova becoming the victor's prize. The 
generous conqueror gave liberty and distinction to 
the defeated emir, and was repaid in two years by 
a rebellion in which he had an army of twenty thou- 
sand men to meet. Yusuf was again defeated, and 
now lost his life. 

Thus it was that the fugitive prince, who had 
saved his life by swimming the Euphrates under the 
eyes of an assassin band, became the Caliph of the 
West, for under him Spain was cut loose from the 
dominion of the Abbassides and made an independent 
kingdom, its conqueror becoming its first monarch 
under the title of Abdurrahman I. 

Almansur, then the Caliph of the East, sought to 
recover the lost domain, sending a large army from 
Africa ; but this was defeated with terrible slaughter 
by the impetuous young prince, who revenged him- 
self by sending the heads of the general and many 
of his officers to the caliph in bags borne by mer- 
chants, which were deposited at the door of Alman- 
sur's tent during the darkness of the night. The 
finder was cautioned to be careful, as the bags con- 
tained treasure. So they were brought in to the 



74 HISTORICAL TALES. 

caliph, who opened them with his own hand. Great 
was his fury and chagrin when he saw what a 
ghastly treasure they contained. " This man is the 
foul fiend in human form," he exclaimed. " Praised 
be Allah that he has placed a sea between him and 
me." 



BERNARDO DEL CARPI O. 

Spain, like France, had its hero of legend. The 
great French hero was Roland, whose mighty deeds 
in the pass of Eoncesvalles have been widely com- 
memorated in song and story. In Spanish legend 
the gallant opponent of the champion of France was 
Bernardo del Carpio, a hero who perhaps never 
lived, except on paper, but about whose name a 
stirring cycle of story has grown. The tale of his 
life is a tragedy, as that of heroes is apt to be. It 
may be briefly told. 

When Charlemagne was on the throne of France 
Alfonso II. was king of Christian Spain. A hundred 
years had passed since all that was left to Spain was 
the cave of Covadonga, and in that time a small 
kingdom had grown up with Oviedo for its capital 
city. This kingdom had spread from the Asturias 
over Leon, which gave its name to the new realm, 
and the slow work of driving back the Moslem con- 
querors had well begun. 

Alfonso never married and had no children. 
People called him Alfonso the Chaste. He went so 
far as to forbid any of his family to marry, so that 
the love affairs of his sister, the fair infanta Ximena, 
ran far from smooth. The beautiful princess loved 
and was loved again by the noble Sancho Diaz, Count 
of Saldana, but the king would not listen to their 

76 



76 HISTORICAL TALES. 

union. The natural result followed ; as they dared 
not marry in public they did so in private, and for 
a year or two lived happily together, none knowing 
of their marriage, and least of all the king. 

But when a son was born to them the truth came 
out. It threw the tyrannical king into a violent 
rage. His sister was seized by his orders and shut 
up in a convent, and her husband was thrown into 
prison for life, some accounts saying that his eyes 
were put out by order of the cruel king. As for 
their infant son, he was sent into the mountains of 
the Asturias, to be brought up among peasants and 
mountaineers. 

It was known that he had been sent there by Al- 
fonso, and the people believed him to be the king's 
son and treated him as a prince. In the healthy 
out-door life of the hills he grew strong and hand- 
some, while his native courage was shown in hunt- 
ing adventures and the perils of mountain life. 
When old enough he learned the use of arms, and 
soon left his humble friends for the army, in which 
his boldness and bravery were shown in many en- 
counters with the French and the Arabs. Those 
about him still supposed him to be the son of the 
king, though Alfonso, while furnishing him with all 
knightly arms and needs, neither acknowledged nor 
treated him as his son. But if not a king's son, he 
was a very valiant knight, and became the terror of 
all the foes of Spain. 

All this time his unfortunate father languished in 
prison, where from time to time he was told by his 
keepers of the mighty deeds of the young prince 



BERNARDO DEL CARPIO. 77 

Bernardo del Carpio, by which name the youthful 
warrior was known. Count Sancho knew well that 
this was his son, and complained bitterly of the 
ingratitude of the youth who could leave his father 
perishing in a prison cell while he rode freely and 
joyously in the open air, engaged in battle and ban- 
quet, and was everywhere admired and praised. He 
knew not that the young warrior had been kept in 
ignorance of his birth. 

During this period came that great event in the 
early history of Spain in which Charlemagne crossed 
the Pyrenees with a great army and marched upon 
the city of Saragossa. It was in the return from 
this expedition that the dreadful attack took place 
in which Eoland and the rear guard of the army 
were slain in the pass of Eoncesvalles. In Spanish 
story it was Bernardo del Carpio who led the victo- 
rious hosts, and to whose prowess was due the signal 
success. 

This fierce fight in a mountain-pass, in which a 
valiant band of mountaineers overwhelmed and de- 
stroyed the flower of the French army, has been ex- 
alted by poetic legend into one of the most stupen- 
dous and romantic of events. Ponderous epic poems 
have made Eoland their theme, numbers of ballads 
and romances tell of his exploits, and the far-oif 
echoes of his ivory horn still sound through the cen- 
turies. One account tells that he blew his horn so 
loud and long that the veins of his neck burst in the 
strain. Others tell that he split a mountain in twain 
by a mighty stroke of his sword Durandal. The 
print of his horse's hoofs are shown on a mountain- 



78 HISTORICAL TALES. 

peak where only a flying horse could ever have 
stood. In truth, Roland, whose name is barely men- 
tioned in history, rose to be the greatest hero of 
romance, the choicest and best of the twelve pala- 
dins of Charlemagne. 

Bernardo del Carpio was similarly celebrated in 
Spanish song, though he attained no such world- 
wide fame. History does not name him at all, but 
the ballads of Spain say much of his warlike deeds. 
It must suffice here to say that this doughty champion 
marched upon Roland and his men while they were 
winding through the narrow mountain-pass, and as 

they advanced the mountaineers swelled their ranks. 

** As through the glen his spears did gleam, the soldiers from 
the hills, 

They swelled his host, as mountain-stream receives the 
roaring rills ; 

They round his banner flocked in scorn of haughty Charle- 
magne, 

And thus upon their swords are sworn the faithful sons of 
Spain." 

Roland and his force lay silent in death when the 
valiant prince led back his army, flushed with vic- 
tory, and hailed with the plaudits of all the people 
of the land. At this moment of his highest triumph 
the tragedy of his life began. His old nurse, who 
had feared before to tell the tale, now made him ac- 
quainted with the true story of his birth, telling him 
that he was the nephew, not the son, of the king ; that 
his mother, whom he thought long dead, still lived, 
shut up for life in a convent ; and that his father lay 
languishing in a dungeon cell, blind and in chains. 



BERNARDO DEL CARPIO. 79 

As may well be imagined, this story filled the soul 
of the young hero with righteous wrath. He strode 
into the presence of the king and asked, with little 
reverence, if the story were true. Alfonso surlily 
admitted it. Bernardo then demanded his father's 
freedom. This the king refused. Burning with 
anger, the valiant youth shut himself up in his cas- 
tle, refusing to take part in the rejoicings that fol- 
lowed the victory, and still sternly demanding the 
release of his father. 

" Is it well that I should be abroad fighting thy 
battles," he asked the king, "while my father lies 
fettered in thy dungeons ? Set him free and I shall 
ask no further reward." 

Alfonso, who was obstinate in his cruelty, refused, 
and the indignant prince took arms against him, 
joining the Moors, whom he aided to harry the 
king's dominions. Fortifying his castle, and gather- 
ing a bold and daring band from his late followers, 
he made incursions deep into the country of the 
king, plundering hamlet and city and fighting in the 
ranks of the Moslems. 

This method of argument was too forcible even 
for the obstinacy of Alfonso. His counsellors, find- 
ing the kingdom itself in danger, urged him to grant 
Bernardo's request, and to yield him his father in 
return for his castle. The king at length consented, 
and Bernardo, as generous and trusting as he was 
brave, immediately accepted the proposed exchange, 
sought the king, handed him the keys of his castle, 
and asked him to fulfil his share of the contract. 

Alfonso agreed to do so, and in a short time the 



80 



HISTORICAL TALES. 



king and his nephew rode forth, Bernardo's heart 
full of joy at the thought of meeting the parent 
whom he had never yet seen. As they rode forward 
a train came from the opposite direction to meet 
them, in the midst a tall figure, clad in splendid 
attire and mounted on horseback. But there was 
something in his aspect that struck Bernardo's heart 
deep with dread. 

" God help me !" he exclaimed, " is that sightless 
and corpse-like figure the noble Count of Saldana, 
my father?" 

"You wished to see him," coldly answered the 
king. " He is before you. Go and greet him." 

Bernardo did so, and reverently took the cold 
hand of his father to kiss it. As he did so the body 
fell forward on the neck of the horse. It was only 
a corpse. Alfonso had killed the father before de- 
livering him to his son. 

Only his guards saved the ruthless tyrant at that 
moment from death. The infuriated knight swore 
a fearful oath of vengeance upon the king, and rode 
away, taking the revered corpse with him. Unfor- 
tunately, the story of Bernardo ends here. None 
of the ballads tell what he did for revenge. We 
may imagine that he joined his power to the Moors 
and harried the land of Leon during his after life, 
at length reaching Alfonso's heart with his vengeful 
blade. But of this neither ballad nor legend tells, 
and with the pathetic scene of the dead father's re- 
lease our story ends. 



RUYDIAZ, THE CID CAMPEADOR, 

Bernardo del Carpio is not the chief Spanish 
hero of romance. To find the mate of Eoland the 
paladin we must seek the incomparable Cid, the 
campeador or champion of Spain, the noblest figure 
in Spanish story or romance. El Mio Cid, " My Cid,'* 
as he is called, with his matchless horse Bavieca and 
his trenchant sword Tisona, towers in Spanish tale 
far above Christian king and Moslem caliph, as the 
pink of chivalry, the pearl of knighthood, the noblest 
and worthiest figure in all that stirring age. 

Cid is an Arabic word, meaning " lord" or " chief." 
The man to whom it was applied was a real person- 
age, not a figment of fancy, though it is to poetry 
and romance that he owes his fame, his story having 
been expanded and embellished in chronicles, epic 
poems, and ballads until it bears little semblance to 
actual history. Yet the deeds of the man himself 
probably lie at the basis of all the splendid fictions 
of romance. 

The great poem in which his exploits were first 
celebrated, the famous " Poema del Cid," is thought 
to be the oldest, as it is one of the noblest in the 
Spanish language. Written probably not later than 
the year 1200, it is of about three thousand lines in 
length, and of such merit that its unknown author 
has been designated the " Homer of Spain." As it 

6 81 



82 HISTORICAL TALES. 

was written soon after the death of the Cid, it could 
not have deviated far from historic truth. Chief 
among the prose works is the " Chronicle of the 
Cid," — Chronica del famoso Gavallero Cid Huy Diez, — 
which, with additions from the poem, was charm- 
ingly rendered in English by the poet Southey, whose 
production is a prose poem in itself. Such are the 
chief sources of our knowledge of the Cid, an active, 
stirring figure, full of the spirit of medisevalism, 
whose story seems to bring back to us the living 
features of the age in which he flourished. A brave 
and daring knight, rousing the jealousy of nobles 
and kings by his valiant deeds, now banished and 
now recalled, now fighting against the Moslems, now 
with them, now for his own hand, and in the end 
winning himself a realm and dying a king without 
the name, — such is the man whose story we propose 
to tell. 

This hero of romance was born about the year 
1040 at Bivar, a little village near Burgos, his father 
being Diego Lainez, a man of gentle birth, his 
mother Teresa Eodriguez, daughter of the governor 
of the Asturias. He is often called Eodrigo de Bivar, 
from his birthplace, but usually Eodrigo Diaz, or 
Buy Diez, as his name is given in the chronicle. 

While still a boy the future prowess of the Cid was 
indicated. He was keen of intellect, active of frame, 
and showed such wonderful dexterity in manly ex- 
ercises as to become unrivalled in the use of arms. 
Those were days of almost constant war. The king- 
dom of the Moors was beginning to fall to pieces; 
that of the Christians was growing steadily stronger ; 



RUY DIAZ, THE CID CAMPEADOR. 83 

not only did war rage between the two races, but 
Moor fought with Moor, Christian with Christian, 
and there was abundant work ready for the strong 
hand and sharp sword. This state of affairs was to 
the taste of the youthful Eodrigo, whose ambition 
was to become a hero of knighthood. 

While gentle in manner and magnanimous in dis- 
position, the young soldier had an exalted sense of 
honor and was sternly devoted to duty. While he 
was still a boy his father was bitterly insulted by 
Count Gomez, who struck him in the face. The old 
man brooded over his humiliation until he lost sleep 
and appetite, and withdrew from society into dis- 
consolate seclusion. 

Eodrigo, deeply moved by his father's grief, sought 
and killed the insulter, and brought the old man the 
bleeding head of his foe. At this the disconsolate 
Diego rose and embraced his son, and bade him sit 
above him at table, saying that "he who brought 
home that head should be the head of the house of 
Layn Calvo." 

From that day on the fame of the young knight 
rapidly grew, until at length he defeated and cap- 
tured five Moorish kings who had invaded Castile. 
This exploit won him the love of Ximena, the fair 
daughter of Count Gomez, whom he had slain. 
Foreseeing that he would become the greatest man 
in Spain, the damsel waited not to be wooed, but 
offered him her hand in marriage, an offer which 
he was glad to accept. And ever after, says the 
chronicle, she was his loving wife. 

The young champion is said to have gained the 



84 HISTORICAL TALES. 

good-will of St. Lazarus and the Holy Yirgin by 
sleeping with a leper who had been shunned by his 
knights. No evil consequences came from this ex- 
ample of Christian philanthropy, — if it ever hap- 
pened, — while it added to the knight's high repute. 

Fernando I., who had gathered a large Christian 
kingdom under his crown, died when Eodrigo was 
but fifteen years of age, and in his will foolishly cut 
up his kingdom between his three sons and two 
daughters, greatly weakening the Christian power, 
and quickly bringing his sons to sword's point. By 
the will Sancho was placed over Castile, Alfonso be- 
came king of Leon, Garcia ruled in Galicia ; Urraca, 
one of the daughters, received the city of Toro, and 
Elvira was given that of Zamora. 

Sancho was not satisfied with this division. Beincr 
the oldest, he thought he should have all, and pre- 
pared to seize the shares of his brothers and sisters. 
Looking for aid in this design, he was attracted by 
the growing fame of young Eodrigo, and gained his 
aid in the restoration of Zamora, which the Moors 
had destroyed. While thus engaged there came to 
Eodrigo messengers with tribute from the five Moor- 
ish kings whom he had captured and released. They 
hailed the young warrior as Sid, or Cid, and the 
king, struck by the title, said that Euy Diez should 
thenceforth bear it ; also that he should be known 
as campeador or champion. 

King Sancho now knighted the young warrior 
with his own hand, and soon after made him alferez^ 
or commander of his troops. As such he was de- 
Bpatched against Alfonso, who was soon driven from 



RUY DIAZ, THE CID CAMPEADOR. 85 

his kingdom of Leon and sought shelter in the Moor- 
ish city of Toledo. Leon being occupied, the Cid 
marched against Galicia, and drove out Garcia as he 
had done Alfonso. Then he deprived Urraca and 
Elvira of the cities left them by their father, and 
the whole kingdom was once more placed under a 
single ruler. 

It did not long remain so. Sancho died in 1072, 
and at once Alfonso and Garcia hurried back from 
exile to recover their lost realms. But Alfonso's 
ambition equalled that of Sancho. All or none was 
his motto. Invading the kingdom of Galicia, he 
robbed Garcia of it and held him prisoner. Then 
he prepared to invade Castile, and offered the com- 
mand of the army for this enterprise to the Cid. 

The latter was ready for fighting in any form, so 
that he could fight with honor. But there was 
doubt in his mind if service under Alfonso was con- 
sistent with the honor of a knight. King Sancho 
had been assassinated while hunting, and it was 
whispered that Alfonso had some share in the mur- 
der. The high-minded Cid would not draw sword 
for him unless he swore that he had no lot or part 
in his brother's death. Twice the Cid gave him the 
oath, whereupon, says the chronicle, "My Cid re- 
peated the oath to him a third time, and the king 
and the knights said 'Amen.' But the wrath of the 
king was exceeding great ; and he said to the Cid, 
' Euy Diez, why dost thou press me so, man ?' From 
that day forward there was no love towards My Cid 
in the heart of the king." 

But the king had sworn, and the Cid entered his 



86 HISTORICAL TALES. 

service and soon conquered Castile, so that Alfonso 
became monarch of Castile, Leon, Galicia, and Portu- 
gal, and took the title of Emperor of Spain. As 
adelantado, or lord of the marches, Euy Diez now- 
occupied himself with the Moors, — fighting where 
hostility reigned, taking tribute for the king from 
Seville and other cities, and settling with the sword 
the disputes of the chiefs, or aiding them in their 
quarrels. Thus he took part with Seville in a war 
with Cordova, and was rewarded with so rich a 
present by the grateful king that Alfonso, inspired 
by his secret hatred for the Cid, grew jealous and 
envious. 

Dunng these events years passed on, and the Cid's 
two fair daughters grew to womanhood and were 
married, at the command of the king, to the two 
counts of Carrion. The Cid liked not his sons-in- 
law, and good reason he had, for they were a pair 
of base hounds despite their lordly title. The brides 
were shamefully treated by them, being stripped and 
beaten nearly to death on their wedding-journey. 

When word of this outrage came to the Cid his 
wrath overflowed. Stalking with little reverence 
into the king's hall, he sternly demanded redress for 
the brutal act. He could not appeal to the law. 
The husband in those days was supreme lord and 
master of his wife. But there was an unwritten 
law, that of the sword, and the incensed father de- 
manded that the bi'utal youths should appear in the 
lists and prove their honor, if they could, against his 
champion. 

They dared not refuse. In those days, when the 



BUY DIAZ, THE CID CAMPEADOR. 87 

sword was the measure of honor and justice, to re- 
fuse would have been to be disgraced. They came 
into the lists, where they were beaten like the 
hounds that they had shown themselves, and the 
noble girls were set free from their bonds. Better 
husbands soon sought the Cid's daughters, and they 
were happily married in the end. 

The exploits of the Cid were far too many for us 
to tell. "Wherever he went victory attended his 
sword. On one occasion the king marched to the 
aid of one of his Moorish allies, leaving the Cid be- 
hind him too sick to ride. Here was an opportunity 
for the Moors, a party of whom broke into Castile 
and by a rapid march made themselves masters of 
the fortress of Gomez. Up from his bed of sickness 
rose the Cid, mounted his steed (though he could 
barely sit in the saddle), charged and scattered the 
invaders, pursued them into the kingdom of Toledo, 
and returned with seven thousand prisoners and all 
the Moorish spoil. 

This brilliant defence of the kingdom was the 
turning point in his career. The king of Toledo 
complained to Alfonso that his neutral territory had 
been invaded by the Cid and his troops, and King 
Alfonso, seeking revenge for the three oaths he had 
been compelled to take, banished the Cid from his 
dominions, on the charge of invading the territory 
of his allies. 

Thus the champion went forth as a knight-errant, 
with few followers, but a great name. Tears came 
into his eyes as he looked back upon his home, its 
doors open, its hall deserted, no hawks upon the 



88 HISTORICAL TALES. 

perches, no horses in the stalls. " My enemies have 
done this," he said. " God be praised for all things." 
He went to Burgos, but there the people would not 
receive him, having had strict orders from the king. 
Their houses were closed, the inn-keepers barred 
their doors, only a bold little maiden dared venture 
out to tell him of the decree. As there was no 
shelter for him there, he was forced to seek lodging 
in the sands near the town. 

Needing money, he obtained it by a trick that was 
not very honorable, though in full accord with the 
ethics of those times. He pawned to the Jews two 
chests which he said were treasure chests, filled with 
gold. Six hundred marks were received, and when 
the chests were afterwards opened they proved to be 
filled with sand. This was merely a good joke to 
poet and chronicler. The Jews lay outside the pale 
of justice and fair-dealing. 

Onward went the Cid, his followers growing in 
number as he marched. First to Barcelona, then to 
Saragossa, he went, seeking knightly adventures 
everywhere. In Saragossa he entered the service 
of the Moorish king, and for several years fought 
well and sturdily for his old enemies. But time 
brought a change. In 1081 Alfonso captured Toledo 
and made that city his capital, from which he pre- 
pared to push his way still deeper into the Moorish 
dominions. He now needed the Cid, whom he had 
banished five years before. 

But it was easier to ask than to get. The Cid had 
grown too great to be at any king's beck and call. 
He would fight for Alfonso, but in his own way, 



RUY DIAZ, THE CID CAMPEADOR. 89 

holding himself free to attack whom he pleased and 
when he pleased, and to capture the cities of the 
Moslems and rule them as their lord. He had be- 
come a free lance, fighting for his own hand, while 
armies sprang, as it were, from the ground at his call 
to arms. 

In those days of turmoil valor rarely had long to 
wait for opportunity. Eamon Berenguer, lord of 
Barcelona, had laid siege to Valencia, an important 
city on the Mediterranean coast. Thither marched 
the Cid with all speed, seven thousand men in his 
train, and forced Eamon to raise the siege. The Cid 
became governor of Yalencia, under tribute to King 
Alfonso, and under honor to hold it against the 
Moors. 

The famous champion was not done with his 
troubles with Alfonso. In the years that followed 
he was once more banished by the faithless king, and 
his wife and children were seized and imprisoned. 
At a later date he came to the king's aid in his wars, 
but found him again false to his word, and was obliged 
to flee for safety from the camp. 

Valencia had passed from his control and had more 
than once since changed hands. At length the 
Moorish power grew so strong that the city refused 
to pay tribute to Spain and declared its independence. 
Here was work for the Cid — not for the benefit of 
Alfonso, but for his own honor and profit. He was 
weary of being made the foot-ball of a jealous and 
faithless monarch, and craved a kingdom of his own. 
Against Yalencia he marched with an army of free 
swords at his back. He was fighting now for the 



90 HISTORICAL TALES. 

Cid, not for Moorish emir or Spanish monarch. For 
twenty months he beseiged the fair city, until star- 
vation came to the aid of his sword. No relief 
reached the Moors; the elements fought against 
them, floods of rain destroying the roads and wash- 
ing away the bridges; on June 15, 1094, the Cid 
Campeador marched into the city thenceforth to be 
associated with his name. 

Ascending its highest tower, he gazed with joy 
upon the fair possession which he had won with his 
own good sword without aid from Spanish king or 
Moorish ally, and which he proposed to hold for his 
own while Ufe remained. His city it was, and to-day 
it bears his name, being known as Valencia del Cid. 
But he had to hold it with the good sword by which 
he won it, for the Moors, who had failed to aid the 
beleaguered city, sought with all their strength to 
win it back. 

During the next year thirty thousand of them 
came and encamped about the walls of the city. 
But fighting behind walls was not to the taste of 
the Cid Campeador. Out from the gates he sallied 
and drove them like sheep from their camp, killing 
fifteen thousand of them in the fight. 

" Be it known," the chronicle tells us, " that this 
was a profitable day's work. Every foot-soldier 
shared a hundred marks of silver that day, and the 
Cid returned full honorably to Valencia. Great was 
the joy of the Christians in the Cid Euy Diez, who 
was born in a happy hour. His beard was grown, 
and continued to grow, a great length. My Cid said 
of his chin, 'For the love of King Don Alfonso, 



RUY DIAZ, THE CID CAMPEADOR. 91 

who hath banished me from his land, no scissors 
shall come upon it, nor shall a hair be cut away, and 
Moors and Christians shall talk of it.' " And until 
he died his great beard grew on untouched. 

Not many were the men with whom he had done 
his work, but they were soldiers of tried temper and 
daring hearts. " There were one thousand knights 
of lineage and five hundred and fifty other horsemen. 
There were four thousand foot-soldiers, besides boys 
and others. Thus many were the people of My Cid, 
him of Bivar. And his heart rejoiced, and he smiled 
and said, 'Thanks be to God and to Holy Mother 
Mary! We had a smaller company when we left 
the house of Bivar.' " 

The next year King Yussef, leader of the Moors, 
came again to the siege of Valencia, this time with 
fifty thousand men. Small as was the force of the 
Cid as compared with this great army, he had no idea 
of fighting cooped up like a rat in a cage. Out once 
more he sallied, with but four thousand men at his 
back. His bishop, Hieronymo, absolved them, say- 
ing, "He who shall die, fighting full forward, I 
will take as mine his sins, and God shall have his 
soul." 

A learned and wise man was the good bishop, but 
a valorous one as well, mighty in arms alike on 
horseback and on foot. " A boon, Cid don Eodrigo," 
he cried. " I have sung mass to you this morning. 
Let me have the giving of the first wounds in this 
battle." 

" In God's name, do as you will," answered the Cid. 

That day the bishop had his will of the foe, fight- 



92 HISTORICAL TALES. 

ing with both hands until no man knew how many 
of the infidels he slew. Indeed, they were all too 
busy to heed the bishop's blows, for, so the chronicle 
says, only fifteen thousand of the Moslems escaped. 
Yussef, sorely wounded, left to the Cid his famous 
sword Tisona, and barely escaped from the field with 
his life. 

Bucar, the brother of Yussef, came to revenge 
him, but he knew not with whom he had to deal. 
Bishop Hieronymo led the right wing, and made 
havoc in the ranks of the foe. " The bishop pricked 
forward," we are told. " Two Moors he slew with 
the first two thrusts of his lance ; the haft broke 
and he laid hold on his sword. God ! how well the 
bishop fought. He slew two with the lance and five 
with the sword. The Moors fled." 

" Turn this way, Bucar," cried the Cid, who rode 
close on the heels of the Moorish chief; "you who 
came from behind sea to see the Cid with the long 
beard. We must greet each other and cut out a 
friendship." 

" God confound such friendships," cried Bucar, 
following his flying troops with nimble speed. 

Hard behind him rode the Cid, but his horse Ba- 
vieca was weary with the day's hard work, and 
Bucar rode a fresh and swift steed. And thus they 
went, fugitive and pursuer, until the ships of the 
Moors were at hand, when the Cid, finding that he 
could not reach the Moorish king with his sword, 
flung the weapon fiercely at him, striking him be- 
tween the shoulders. Bucar, with the mark of bat- 
tle thus upon him, rode into the sea and was taken 



RUT DIAZ, THE CID CAMPEADOR. 93 

into a boat, while the Cid picked up his sword from 
the ground and sought his men again. 

The Moorish host did not escape so well. Set 
upon fiercely by the Spaniards, they ran in a panic 
into the sea, where twice as many were drowned as 
were slain in the battle ; and of these, seventeen 
thousand and more had fallen, while a vast host re- 
mained as prisoners. Of the twenty-nine kings who 
came with Bucar, seventeen were left dead upon the 
field. 

The chronicler uses numbers with freedom. The 
Cid is his hero, and it is his task to exalt him. But 
the efforts of the Moors to regain Yalencia and their 
failure to do so may be accepted as history. In due 
time, however, age began to tell upon the Cid, and 
death came to him as it does to all. He died in 
1099, from grief, as the story goes, that his colleague, 
Alvar Faiiez, had suffered a defeat. Whether from 
grief or age, at any rate he died, and his wife, 
Ximena, was left to hold the city, which for two 
years she gallantly did, against all the power of the 
Moors. Then Alfonso entered it, and, finding that 
he could not hold it, burned the principal buildings 
and left it to the Moors. A century and a quarter 
passed before the Christians won it again. 

When Alfonso left the city of the Cid he brought 
with him the body of the campeador, mounted upon 
his steed Bavieca, and solemnly and slowly the train 
wound on until the corpse of the mighty dead was 
brought to the cloister of the monastery of Cardena. 
Here the dead hero was seated on a throne, with his 
sword Tisona in his hand; and, the story goes, a 



94 HISTORICAL TALES. 

caitiff Jew, perhaps wishing to revenge his brethren 
who had been given sand for gold, plucked the flow- 
ing beard of the Cid. At this insult the hand of the 
corpse struck out and the insulter was hurled to the 
floor. 

The Cid Campeador is a true hero of romance, 
and well are the Spaniards proud of him. Honor 
was the moving spring of his career. As a devoted 
son, he revenged the insult to his father ; as a loving 
husband, he made Ximena the partner of his fame ; 
as a tender father, he redressed his daughters* 
wrongs; as a loyal subject, he would not serve a 
king on whom doubt of treachery rested. In spite 
of the injustice of the king, he was true to his coun- 
try, and came again and again to its aid. Though 
forced into the field as a free lance, he was through- 
out a Christian cavalier. And, though he cheated 
the Jews, the story goes that he repaid them their 
gold. Courage, courtesy, and honor were the jewels 
of his fame, and romance holds no nobler hero. 

It will not be amiss to close our tale of the Cid 
with a quotation from the famous poem in which it 
is shown how even a lion quailed before his majesty : 

" Peter Bermuez arose ; somewhat he had to say ; 
The words were strangled in his throat, they could not find 

their way ; 
Till forth they came at once, without a stop or stay : 
* Cid, I'll tell you what, this always is your way ; 
You have always served me thus, whenever you have come 
To meet here in the Cortes, you call me Peter the Dumb. 
I cannot help my nature ; I never talk nor rail ; 
But when a thing is to be done, you know I never fail. 



RUY DIAZ, THE CID CAMPEADOR. 95 

Fernando, you have lied, you have lied in every word ; 

You have been honored by the Cid and favored and preferred. 

I know of all your tricks, and can tell them to your face : 

Do you remember in Valencia the skirmish and the chase ? 

You asked leave of the Cid to make the first attack ; 

You went to meet a Moor, but you soon came running back. 

I met the Moor and killed him, or he would have killed you ; 

I gave you up his arms, and all that was my due. 

Up to this very hour, I never said a word ; 

You praised yourself before the Cid and I stood by and heard 

How you had killed the Moor, and done a valiant act ; 

And they believed you all, but they never knew the fact. 

You are tall enough and handsome, but cowardly and weak, 

Thou tongue without a hand, how can you dare to speak ? 

There's the story of the lions should never be forgot ; 

Now let us hear, Fernando, what answer you have got? 

The Cid was sleeping in his chair, with all his knights around ; 

The cry went forth along the hall that the lion was unbound. 

What did you do, Fernando ? Like a coward as you were, 

You shrunk behind the Cid, and crouched beneath his chair. 

"We pressed around the throne to shield our loved from harm, 

Till the good Cid awoke. He rose without alarm. 

He went to meet the lion with his mantle on his arm. 

The lion was abashed the noble Cid to meet ; 

He bowed his mane to the earth, his muzzle at his feet. 

The Cid by the neck and the mane drew him to his den, 

He thrust him in at the hatch, and came to the hall again. 

He found his knights, his vassals, and all his valiant men. 

He asked for his sons-in-law, they were neither of them there. 

I defy you for a coward and a traitor as you are.' " 



LAS NAVAS DE TO LOS A. 

On the 16th of July, 1212, was fought the great 
battle which broke the Moorish power in Spain. 
During the two centuries before fresh streams of in- 
vasion had flowed in from Africa to yield new hfe 
to the Moslem power. From time to time in the 
Mohammedan world reforms have sprung up, and 
been carried far and wide by fanaticism and the 
sword. One such body of reformers, the Almora- 
vides, invaded Spain in the eleventh century and 
carried all before it. It was with these that the 
Cid Campeador had to deal. A century later a new 
reformer, calling himself El Mahdi, appeared in 
Africa, and set going a movement which overflowed 
the African states and made its way into Spain, 
where it subdued the Moslem kingdoms and threat- 
ened the Christian states. These invaders were 
known as the Almohades. They were pure Moors. 
The Arab movement had lost its strength, and from 
that time forward the Moslem dominions in Spain 
were peopled chiefly by Moors. 

Spain was threatened now as France had been 
threatened centuries before when Charles Martel 
crushed the Arab hordes on the plains of Tours. All 
Christendom felt the danger and Pope Innocent III. 
preached a crusade for the defence of Spain against 
the infidel. In response, thousands of armed cru- 
96 



LAS NAVAS DE TOLOSA. 97 

saders flocked into Spain, coming in corps, in bands, 
and as individuals, and gathered about Toledo, the 
capital of Alfonso YIII., King of Castile. From all 
the surrounding nations they came, and camped in 
the rich country about the capital, a host which 
Alfonso had much ado to feed. 

Mohammed An-Nassir, the emperor of the Almo- 
hades, responded to the effort of the Pope by organ- 
izing a crusade in Moslem Africa. He proclaimed an 
Algihed, or Holy War, ordered a massacre of all the 
Christians in his dominions, and then led the fanati- 
cal murderers to Spain to join the forces there in 
arms. Christian Europe was pitted against Moslem 
Africa in a holy war, Spain the prize of victory, and 
the plains of Andalusia the arena of the coming des- 
perate strife. 

The decisive moment was at hand. Mohammed 
left Morocco and reached Seville in June. His new 
levies were pouring into Spain in hosts. On the 21st 
of June Alfonso began his advance, leading southward 
a splendid array. Archbishops and bishops headed 
the army. In the van marched a mighty force of 
fifty thousand men under Don Diego Lopez de Haro, 
ten thousand of them being cavalry. After them 
came the troops of the kings of Aragon and Castile, 
each a distinct army. Next came the knights of 
St. John of Calatrava and the knights of Santiago, 
their grand-masters leading, and after them many 
other bodies, including troops from Italy and Ger- 
many. Such a gallant host Spain had rarely seen. 
It was needed, for the peril was great. While one 
hundred thousand marched under the Christian ban- 

7 



98 HISTORICAL TALES. 

ners, the green standard of the prophet, if we may 
credit the historians, rose before an army nearly four 
times as large. 

Without dwelling on the events of the march, we 
may hasten forward to the 12th of July, when the 
host of Alfonso reached the vicinity of the Moorish 
army, and the Navas de Tolosa, the destined field of 
battle, lay near at hand. The word navas means 
*' plains." Here, on a sloping spur of the Sierra 
Morena, in the upper valley of the Guadalquiver, 
about seventy miles east of Cordova, lies an extended 
table-land, a grand plateau whose somewhat sloping 
surface gave ample space for the vast hosts which 
met there on that far-off July day. 

To reach the plateau was the problem before Al- 
fonso. The Moslems held the ground, and occupied 
in force the pass of Losa, Nature's highway to the 
plain. What was to be done? The pass could be 
won, if at all, only at great cost in life. No other 
pass was known. To retire would be to inspirit the 
enemy and dispirit the Christian host. No easy way 
out of the quandary at first appeared, but a way 
was found, — by miracle, the writers of that time say ; 
but it hardly seems a miracle that a shepherd of the 
region knew of another mountain-pass. This man, 
Martin Halaja, had grazed his flocks in that vicinity 
for years. He told the king of a pass unknown to 
the enemy, by which the army might reach the 
table-land, and to prove his words led Lopez de 
Haro and another through this little-known mountain 
by-way. It was difficult but passable, the army was 
put in motion and traversed it all night long, and 



LAS NAVAS DE TOLOSA. 99 

on the morning of the 14th of July the astonished 
eyes of the Mohammedans gazed on the Christian 
host, holding in force the borders of the plateau, 
and momentarily increasing in numbers and strength. 
Ten miles before the eyes of Alfonso and his men 
stretched the plain, level in the centre, in the distance 
rising in gentle slopes to its border of hills, like a vast 
natural amphitheatre. The soldiers, filled with hope 
and enthusiasm, spread through their ranks the story 
that the shepherd who had led them was an angel, 
sent by the Almighty to lead his people to victory 

over the infidel. 

« 

Mohammed and his men had been told on the pre- 
vious day by their scouts that the camp of the Chris- 
tians was breaking up, and rejoiced in what seemed 
a victory without a blow. But when they saw these 
same Christians defiling in thousands before them 
on the plain, ranged in battle array under their va- 
rious standards, their joy was changed to rage and 
consternation. Against the embattled front their 
wild riders rode, threatening the steady troops with 
brandished lances and taunting them with coward- 
ice. But Alfonso held his mail-clad battalions firm, 
and the light-armed Moorish horsemen hesitated to 
attack. Word was brought to Mohammed that the 
Christians would not fight, and in hasty gratula- 
tion he sent off letters to cities in the rear to that 
effect. He little dreamed that he was soon to follow 
his messengers in swifter speed. 

It was a splendid array upon which the Christians 
gazed, — one well calculated to make them tremble for 
the result, — for the hosts of Mohammed covered the 



100 HISTORICAL TALES. 

hill-sides and plain like "countless swarms of lo- 
custs." On an eminence which gave an outlook over 
the whole broad space stood the emperor's tent, of 
three-ply crimson velvet flecked with gold, strings 
of pearls depending from its purple fringes. To 
guard it from assault rows of iron chains were 
stretched, before which stood three thousand camels 
in line. In front of these ten thousand negroes 
formed a living wall, their front bristling with the 
steel of their lances, whose butts were planted firmly 
in the sand. In the centre of this powerful guard 
stood the emperor, wearing the gr§en dress and tur- 
ban of his ancestral line. Grasping in one hand his 
scimitar, in the other he held a Koran, from which 
he read those passages of inspiration to the Moslems 
which promised the delights of Paradise to those 
who should fall in a holy war and the torments of 
hell to the coward who should desert his ranks. 

The next day was Sunday. The Moslems, eager 
for battle, stood all day in line, but the Christians 
declined to fight, occupying themselves in arranging 
their different corps. Night descended without a 
skirmish. But this could not continue with the two 
armies so closely face to face. One side or the other 
must surely attack on the following day. At mid- 
night heralds called the Christians to mass and 
prayer. Everywhere priests were busy confessing 
and shriving the soldiers. The sound of the furbish- 
ing of arms mingled with the strains of religious 
service. At the dawn of the next day both hosts 
were drawn up in battle array. The great struggle 
was about to begin. 



LAS NAVAS DE TOLOSA. 101 

The army of the Moors, said to contain three hun- 
dred thousand regular troops and seventy-five thou- 
sand irregulars, was drawn up in crescent shape in 
front of the imperial tent, — in the centre the vast 
host of the Almohades, the tribes of the desert on 
the wings, in advance the light-armed troops. The 
Christian host was formed in four legions, King 
Alfonso occupying the centre, his banner bearing an 
eflSgy of the Virgin. With him were Rodrigo Xime- 
nes, the archbishop of Toledo, and many other prel- 
ates. The force was less than one hundred thousand 
strong, some of the crusaders having left it in the 
march. 

The sun was not high when the loud sound of the 
Christian trumpets and the Moorish atabals gave 
signal for the fray, and the two hosts surged forward 
to meet in fierce assault. Sternly and fiercely the 
battle went on, the struggling multitudes swaying 
in the ardor of the fight, — now the Christians, now 
the Moslems surging forward or driven back. With 
difficulty the thin ranks of the Christians bore the 
onsets of their densely grouped foes, and at length 
King Alfonso, in fear for the result, turned to the 
prelate Rodrigo and exclaimed, — 

" Archbishop, you and I must die here." 

" Not so," cried the bold churchman. " Here we 
must triumph over our enemies." 

''Then let us to the van, where we are sorely 
needed, for, indeed, our lines are being bitterly 
pressed." 

Nothing backward, the archbishop followed the 
king. Fernan Garcia, one of the king's cavaliers, 



102 HISTORICAL TALES. 

urged him to wait for aid, but Alfonso, commending 
himself to God and the Virgin, spurred forward and 
plunged into the thick of the fight. And ever as he 
rode, by his side rode the archbishop, wearing his 
chasuble and bearing aloft the cross. The Moorish 
troops, who had been jeering at the king and the 
cross-bearing prelate, drew back before this impetu- 
ous assault, which was given force by the troops 
who crowded in to the rescue of the king. The 
Moors soon yielded to the desperate onset, and were 
driven back in wild disarray. 

This was the beginning of the end. Treason in 
the Moorish ranks came to the Christian aid. Some 
of Mohammed's force, who hated him for having 
cruelly slain their chief, turned and fled. The break- 
ing of their centre opened a way for the Spaniards 
to the living fortress which guarded the imperial 
tent, and on this dense line of sable lancers the 
Christian cavalry madly charged. 

In vain they sought to break that serried line of 
steel. Some even turned their horses and tried to 
back them in, but without avail. Many fell in the 
attempt. The Moslem ranks seemed impervious. 
In the end one man did what a host had failed to 
perform. A single cavalier, Alvar Nunez de Lara, 
stole in between the negroes and the camels, in some 
way passed the chains, and with a cheer of triumph 
raised his banner in the interior of the line. A 
second and a third followed in his track. The gap 
between the camels and the guard widened. Dozens, 
hundreds rushed to join their daring leader. The 
camels were loosened and dispersed ; the negroes, 



LAS NAVAS DE TOLOSA. 103 

attacked front and rear, perished or fled ; the living 
wall that guarded the emperor was gone, and his 
sacred person was in peril. 

Mohammed was dazed. His lips still repeated 
from the Koran, " God alone is true, and Satan is a 
betrayer," but terror was beginning to stir the roots 
of his hair. An Arab rode up on a swift mare, and, 
springing to the ground, cried, — 

" Mount and flee, O king. Not thy steed but my 
mare. She comes of the noblest breed, and knows 
not how to fail her rider in his need. All is lost I 
Mount and flee !" 

All was lost, indeed. Mohammed scrambled up 
and set off at the best speed of the Arabian steed, 
followed by his troops in a panic of terror. The 
rout was complete. While day continued the Chris- 
tian horsemen followed and struck, until the bodies 
of slain Moors lay so thick upon the plain that there 
was scarce room for man or horse to pass. Then 
Archbishop Eodrigo, who had done so much towards 
the victory, stood before Mohammed's tent and in a 
loud voice intoned the Te Deum laudainus, the soldiers 
uniting in the sacred chant of victory. 

The archbishop, who became the historian of this 
decisive battle, speaks of two hundred thousand 
Moslem slain. We cannot believe it so many, even 
on the word of an archbishop. Twenty-five Chris- 
tians alone fell. This is as much too small as the 
other estimate is too large. But, whatever the losses, 
it was a great and glorious victory, and the spoils 
of war that fell to the victors were immense. Gold 
and silver were there in abundance ; horses, camels. 



104 HISTORICAL TALES. 

and wagons in profusion ; arms of all kinds, com- 
missary stores in quantities. So vast was the num- 
ber of lances strewn on the ground that the con- 
quering army used only these for firewood in their 
camp, and did not burn the half of them. 

King Alfonso, with a wise and prudent liberality, 
divided the spoil among his troops and allies, keeping 
only the glory of the victory for himself Moham- 
med's splendid tent was taken to Kome to adorn St. 
Peter's, and the captured banners were sent to the 
cities of Spain as evidences of the great victory. 
For himself, the king reserved a fine emerald, which 
he placed in the centre of his shield. Ever since 
that brilliant day in Spanish annals, the sixteenth 
of July has been kept as a holy festival, in which 
the captured banners are carried in grand procession, 
to celebrate the " Triumph of the Cross." 

The supposed miracle of the shepherd was not 
the only one which the monkish writers saw in the 
victorious event. It was said that a red cross, like 
that of Calatrava, appeared in the sky, inspiriting 
the Christians and dismaying their foes j and that 
the sight of the Virgin banner borne by the king's 
standard-bearer struck the Moslems with torpor. 
It was a credulous age, one in which miracles could 
be woven out of the most homely and every-day 
material. 

Death soon came to the leaders in the war. Mo- 
hammed, sullen with defeat, hurried to Morocco, 
where he shut himself up in gloomy seclusion, and 
died — or was poisoned — before the year's end. Al- 
fonso died two years later. The Christians did not 



LAS NAVAS DE TOLOSA. 105 

follow up their victory with much energy, and the 
Moslems still held a large section of Spain, but their 
power had culminated and with this signal defeat 
began its decline. Step by step they yielded before 
the Christian advance, though nearly three cen- 
turies more passed before they lost their final hold 
on Spain. 



THE KEY OF GRANADA. 

Nearly eight huodred years had passed away 
after the landing of Tarik, the Arab, in Spain and 
the defeat and death of Don Eoderic, the last king 
of the Goths. During those centuries the handful 
of warriors which in the mountains of the north 
had made a final stand against the invading hordes 
had grown and spread, pushing back the Arabs and 
Moors, until now the Christians held again nearly 
all the land, the sole remnant of Moslem dominion 
being the kingdom of Granada in the south. The 
map of Spain shows the present province of Granada 
as a narrow district bordering on the Mediterranean 
Sea, but the Moorish kingdom covered a wider space, 
spreading over the present provinces of Malaga and 
Almeria, and occupying one of the richest sections 
of Spain. It was a rock-bound region. In every 
direction ran sierras, or rugged mountain-chains, so 
rocky and steep as to make the kingdom almost 
impregnable. Yet within their sterile confines lay 
numbers of deep and rich valleys, prodigal in their 
fertility. 

In the centre of the kingdom arose its famous 
capital, the populous and beautiful city of Granada, 
standing in the midst of a great vega or plain, one 
hundred miles and more in circumference and en- 
compassed by the snowy mountains of the Sierra 
106 



THE KEY OF GRANADA. 107 

Nevada. The seventy thousand houses of the city- 
spread over two lofty hills and occupied the valley 
between them, through which ran the waters of the 
Douro. On one of these hills stood the Alcazaba, a 
strong fortress ; on the other rose the famous Al- 
hambra, a royal palace and castle, with space within 
its confines for forty thousand men, and so rare and 
charming in its halls and courts, its gardens and 
fountains, that it remains to-day a place of pilgrim- 
age to the world for lovers of the beautiful in archi- 
tecture. And from these hills the city between 
showed no less attractive, with its groves of citron, 
orange, and pomegranate trees, its leaping fountains, 
its airy minarets, its mingled aspect of crowded 
dwellings and verdant gardens. 

High walls, three leagues in circuit, with twelve 
gates and a thousand and thirty towers, girded it 
round, beyond which extended the vega, a vast gar- 
den of delight, to be compared only with the famous 
plain of Damascus. Through it the Xenil wound in 
silvery curves, its waters spread over the plain in 
thousands of irrigating streams and rills. Blooming 
gardens and fields of waving grain lent beauty to 
the plain ; orchards and vineyards clothed the slopes 
of the hills; in the orange and citron groves the 
voice of the nightingale made the nights musical. 
In short, all was so beautiful below and so soft and 
serene above that the Moors seemed not without 
warrant for their fond belief that Paradise lay in 
the skies overhanging this happy plain. 

But, alas for Granada ! war hung round its bor- 
ders, and the blare of the trumpet and clash of the 



108 HISTORICAL TALES. 

sword were ever familiar sounds within its confines. 
Christian kingdoms surrounded it, whose people en- 
vied the Moslems this final abiding-place on the soil 
of Spain. Hostilities were ceaseless on the borders ; 
plundering forays were the delight of the Castilian 
cavaliers and the Moorish horsemen. Every town 
was a fortress, and on every peak stood a watch- 
tower, ready to give warning with a signal fire by 
night or a cloud of smoke by day of any movement 
of invasion. For many years such a state of affairs 
continued between Granada and its principal an- 
tagonist, the united kingdoms of Castile and Leon. 
Even when, in 1457, a Moorish king, disheartened 
by a foray into the vega itself, made a truce with 
Henry lY., king of Castile and Leon, and agreed to 
pay him an annual tribute, the right of warlike raids 
was kept open. It was only required that they must 
be conducted secretly, without sound of trumpet or 
show of banners, and must not continue more than 
three days. Such a state of affairs was desired alike 
by the Castilian and Moorish chivalry, who loved 
these displays of daring and gallantry, and enjoyed 
nothing more than a crossing of swords with their 
foes. In 1465 a Moorish prince, Muley Abul Hassan, a 
man who enjoyed war and hated the Christians, came 
to the throne, and at once the tribute ceased to be 
paid. For some years still the truce continued, for 
Ferdinand and Isabella, the new monarchs of Spain, 
had troubles at home to keep them engaged. But in 
1481 the war reopened with more than its old fury, 
and was continued until Granada fell in 1492, the 
year in which the wise Isabella gave aid to Columbus 



THE KEY OF GRANADA. 109 

for the discovery of an unknown world beyond the 
seas. 

The war for the conquest of Granada was one full 
of stirring adventure and hair-breadth escapes, of 
forays and sieges, of the clash of swords and the 
brandishing of spears. It was no longer fought by 
Spain on the principle of the raid, — to dash in, kill, 
plunder, and speed away with clatter of hoofs and 
rattle of spurs. It was Ferdinand's policy to take 
and hold, capturing stronghold after stronghold until 
all Granada was his. In a memorable pun on the 
name of Granada, which signifies a pomegranate, he 
said, " I will pick out the seeds of this pomegranate 
one by one." 

Muley Abul Hassan, the new Moorish king, began 
the work, foolishly breaking the truce which Fer- 
dinand wished a pretext to bring to an end. On a 
dark night in 1481 he fell suddenly on Zahara, a 
mountain town on the Christian frontier, so strong 
in itself that it was carelessly guarded. It was 
taken by surprise, its inhabitants were carried off 
as slaves, and a strong Moorish garrison was left to 
hold it. 

The Moors paid dearly for their daring assault. 
The Christians retaliated by an attack on the strong 
and rich city of Alhama, a stronghold within the 
centre of the kingdom, only a few leagues distant 
from the capital itself. Strongly situated on a rocky 
height, with a river nearly surrounding it and a 
fortress seated on a steep crag above it, and far 
within the border, no dream of danger to Alhama 
came to the mind of the Moors, who contented 



110 HISTORICAL TALES. 

themselves with a small garrison and a negligent 
guard. 

But the loss of Zahara had exasperated Ferdinand. 
His wars at home were over and he had time to at- 
tend to the Moors, and scouts had brought word of 
the careless security of the guard of Alhama. It 
could be reached by a difficult and little-travelled 
route through the defiles of the mountains, and there 
were possibilities that a secret and rapid march 
might lead to its surprise. 

At the head of the enterprise was Don Eodrigo 
Ponce de Leon, Marquis of Cadiz, the most distin- 
guished champion in the war that followed. With 
a select force of three thousand light cavalry and 
four thousand infantry, adherents of several nobles 
who attended the expedition, the mountains were 
traversed with the greatest secrecy and celerity, the 
marches being made mainly by night and the troops 
remaining quiet and concealed during the day. No 
fires were made and no noise was permitted, and 
midnight of the third day found the invaders in a 
small, deep valley not far from the fated town. Only 
now were the troops told what was in view. They 
had supposed that they were on an ordinary foray. 
The inspiring tidings filled them with ardor, and 
they demanded to be led at once to the assault. 

Two hours before daybreak the army was placed 
in ambush close to Alhama, and a body of three 
hundred picked men set out on the difficult task of 
scaling the walls of the castle and surprising its gar- 
rison. The ascent was steep and very difficult, but 
they were guided by one who had carefully studied 



THE KEY OP GRANADA. Ill 

the situation on a previous secret visit and knew 
what paths to take. Following him they reached 
the foot of the castle walls without discovery. 

Here, under the dark shadow of the towers, they 
halted and listened. There was not a sound to be 
heard, not a light to be seen ; sleep seemed to brood 
over castle and town. The ladders were placed and 
the men noiselessly ascended, Ortega, the guide, 
going first. The parapet reached, they moved 
stealthily along its summit until they came upon a 
sleepy sentinel. Seizing him by the throat, Ortega 
flourished a dagger before his eyes and bade him 
point the way to the guard-room. The frightened 
Moor obeyed, and a dagger thrust ended all danger 
of his giving an alarm. In a minute more the small 
scaling party was in the guard-room, massacring 
the sleeping garrison, while the remainder of the 
three hundred were rapidly ascending to the battle- 
ments. 

Some of the awakened Moors fought desperately 
for their lives, the clash of arms and cries of the 
combatants came loudly from the castle, and the 
ambushed army, finding that the surprise had been 
effective, rushed from their lurking-place with shouts 
and the sound of trumpets and drums, hoping there- 
by to increase the dismay of the garrison. Ortega 
at length fought his way to a postern, which he 
threw open, admitting the Marquis of Cadiz and a 
strong following, who quickly overcame all opposi- 
tion, the citadel being soon in full possession of the 
Christians. 

While this went on the town took the alarm. The 



112 HISTORICAL TALES. 

garrison had been destroyed in the citadel, but all 
the Moors, citizens and soldiers alike, were accus- 
tomed to weapons and warlike in spirit, and, looking 
for speedy aid from. Granada, eight leagues away, the 
tradesmen manned the battlements and discharged 
showers of stones and arrows upon the Christians 
wherever visible. The streets leading to the citadel 
were barricaded, and a steady fire was maintained 
upon its gate, all who attempted to sally into the 
city being shot down. 

It began to appear as if the Spaniards had taken 
too great a risk. Their peril was great. Unless 
they gained the town they must soon be starved out 
of the castle. Some of them declared that they 
could not hope to hold the town even if they took 
it, and proposed to sack and burn the castle and 
make good their retreat before the king of Granada 
could reach them with his forces. 

This weak-hearted counsel was not to the taste 
of the valiant Ponce de Leon. " God has given us 
the castle," he said, "and He will aid us in holding 
it. We won it with bloodshed ; it would be a stain 
upon our honor to abandon it through fear. We 
knew our peril before we came ; let us face it boldly." 

His words prevailed, and the army was led to the 
assault, planting their scaling-ladders against the 
walls and swarming up to attack the Moors upon 
the ramparts. The Marquis of Cadiz, finding that 
the gate of the castle was commanded by the artil- 
lery of the town, ordered a breach to be made in the 
wall ; and through this, sword in hand, he led a body 
of troops into the town. At the same time an as- 



THE KEY OF GRANADA. 113 

sault was made from every point, and the battle 
raged with the greatest fury at the ramparts and in 
the streets. 

The Moors, who fought for life, liberty, and prop- 
erty, defended themselves with desperation, fighting 
in the streets and from the windows and roofs of 
their houses. From morning until night the contest 
continued ; then, overpowered, the townsmen sought 
shelter in a large mosque near the walls, whence 
they kept up so hot a flight of arrows and lances 
that the assailants dared not approach. Finally, 
protected by bucklers and wooden shields, some of 
the soldiers succeeded in setting fire to the door of 
the mosque. As the flames rolled upward the Moors, 
deeming that all was lost, rushed desperately out. 
Many of them were killed in this final fight ; the 
rest surrendered as prisoners. 

The struggle was at an end ; the town lay at the 
mercy of the Spaniards ; it was given up to plunder, 
and immense was the booty taken. Gold and silver, 
rare jewels, rich silks, and costly goods were found in 
abundance; horses and cattle, grain, oil, and honey, all 
the productions of the kingdom, in fact, were there 
in quantities ; for Alhama was the richest town in 
the Moorish territory, and from its strength and 
situation was called the Key of Granada. The sol- 
diers were not content with plunder. Thinking that 
they could not hold the place, they destroyed all 
they could not carry away. Huge jars of oil were 
shattered, costly furniture was demolished, much ma- 
terial of the greatest value was destroyed. In the 
dungeons were found many of the Christian cap- 

8 



114 HISTORICAL TALES. 

tives who had been taken at Zahara, and who gladly 
gained their freedom again. 

The loss of Alhama was a terrible blow to the 
kingdom of Granada. Terror filled the citizens of 
the capital when the news reached that city. Sighs 
and lamentations came from all sides, the mournful 
ejaculation, " Woe is me, Alhama !" was in every 
mouth, and this afterwards became the burden of a 
plaintive ballad, " Ay de mi, Alhama" which remains 
among the gems of Spanish poetry. 

Abul Hassan, full of wrath at the daring pre- 
sumption of his foes, hastened at the head of more 
than fifty thousand men against the city, driving 
back a force that was marching to the aid of the 
Christians, attacking the walls with the fiercest 
fury, and cutting off the stream upon which the 
city depended for water, thus threatening the de- 
fenders with death by thirst. Yet, though in tor- 
ments, they fought with unyielding desperation, and 
held their own until the duke of Medina Sidonia, a 
bitter enemy of the Marquis of Cadiz in peace, but 
his comrade in war, came with a large army to his 
aid. King Ferdinand was hastening thither with 
all speed, and the Moorish monarch, after a last 
fierce assault upon the city, broke up his camp and 
retreated in despair. From that time to the end of 
the contest the Christians held the "Key of Gra- 
nada," a threatening stronghold in the heart of the 
land, from which they raided the vega at will, and 
exhausted the resources of the kingdom. ^^ Ay de 
mi, Alhama /" 



KING ABUL HASSAN AND THE 
ALCAIDE OF GIBRALTAR. 

MuLEY Abul Hassan, the warlike king of Gra- 
nada, weary of having his lands raided and his 
towns taken, resolved to repay the Christians in 
kind. The Duke of Medina Sidonia had driven him 
from captured Alhama. He owed this mighty noble 
a grudge, and the opportunity to repay it seemed at 
hand. The duke had led his forces to the aid of King 
Ferdinand, who was making a foray into Moorish 
territory. He had left almost unguarded his far- 
spreading lands, wide pasture plains covered thickly 
with flocks and herds and offering a rare oppor- 
tunity for a hasty foray. 

" I will give this cavalier a lesson that will cure 
him of his love for campaigning," said the fierce old 
king. 

Leaving his port of Malaga at the head of fifteen 
hundred horse and six thousand foot, the Moorish 
monarch followed the sea-shore route to the border 
of his dominions, entering Christian territory be- 
tween Gibraltar and Castellar. There was only one 
man in this quarter of whom he had any fear. 
This was Pedro de Vargas, governor of Gibraltar, a 
shrewd and vigilant old soldier, whose daring Abul 
Hassan well knew, but knew also that his garrison 
was too small to serve for a successful sally. 

115 



116 HISTORICAL TALES. 

The alert Moor, however, advanced with great 
caution, sending out parties to explore every pass 
where an ambush might await him, since, despite his 
secrecy, the news of his coming might have gone 
before. At length the broken country of Castellar 
was traversed and the plains were reached. Encamp- 
ing on the banks of the Celemin, he sent four hun- 
dred lancers to the vicinity of Algeciras to keep a 
close watch upon Gibraltar across the bay, to attack 
Pedro if he sallied out, and to send word to the camp 
if any movement took place. This force was four 
times that said to be in Gibraltar. Remaining on 
the Celemin with his main body of troops, King 
Hassan sent two hundred horsemen to scour the 
plain of Tarifa, and as many more to the lands of 
Medina Sidonia, the whole district being a rich 
pasture land upon which thousands of animals 
grazed. 

All went well. The parties of foragers came in, 
driving vast flocks and herds, enough to replace 
those which had been swept from the vega of Gra- 
nada by the foragers of Spain. The troops on watch 
at Algeciras sent word that all was quiet at Gibraltar. 
Satisfied that for once Pedro de Vargas had been 
foiled, the old king called in his detachments and 
started back in triumph with his spoils. 

He was mistaken. The vigilant governor had 
been advised of his movements, but was too weak 
in men to leave his post. Fortunately for him, a 
squadron of the armed galleys in the strait put into 
port, and, their commander agreeing to take charge 
of Gibraltar in his absence, Pedro sallied out at 



ABUL HASSAN AND THE ALCAIDE OF GIBRALTAR. 117 

midnight with seventy of his men, bent upon giving 
the Moors what trouble he could. 

Sending men to the mountain-tops, he had alarm 
fires kindled as a signal to the peasants that the 
Moors were out and their herds in peril. Couriers 
were also despatched at speed to rouse the country 
and bid all capable of bearing arms to rendezvous at 
Castellar, a stronghold which Abul Hassan would 
have to pass on his return. The Moorish king saw 
the fire signals and knew well what they meant. 
Striking his tents, he began as hasty a retreat as his 
slow-moving multitude of animals would permit. 
In advance rode two hundred and fifty of his bravest 
men. Then came the great drove of cattle. In the 
rear marched the main army, with Abul Hassan at 
its head. And thus they moved across the broken 
country towards Castellar. 

Near that place De Yargas was on the watch, a 
thick and lofty cloud of dust revealing to him the 
position of the Moors. A half-league of hills and 
declivities separated the van and the rear of the 
raiding column, a long, dense forest rising between. 
De Yargas saw that they were in no position to aid 
each other quickly, and that something might come 
of a sudden and sharp attack. Selecting the best 
fifty of his small force, he made a circuit towards a 
place which he knew to be suitable for ambush. 
Here a narrow glen opened into a defile with high, 
steep sides. It was the only route open to the Moors, 
and he proposed to let the vanguard and the herds 
pass and fall upon the rear. 

The Moors, however, were on the alert. While the 



118 HISTORICAL TALES. 

Spaniards lay hidden, six mounted scouts entered 
the defile and rode into the mouth of the glen, keenly 
looking to right and left for a concealed enemy. 
They came so near that a minute or two more must 
reveal to them the ambush. 

" Let us kill these men and retreat to Gibraltar," 
said one of the Spaniards ; " the infidels are far too 
many for us." 

"I have come for larger game than this," an- 
swered De Yargas, " and, by the aid of God and 
Santiago, I will not go back without making my 
mark. I know these Moors, and will show you how 
they stand a sudden charge." 

The scouts were riding deeper into the glen. The 
ambush could no longer be concealed. At a quick 
order from De Yargas ten horsemen rushed so sud- 
denly upon them that four of their number were in 
an instant hurled to the ground. The other two 
wheeled and rode back at full speed, hotly pursued 
by the ten men. Their dashing pace soon brought 
them in sight of the vanguard of the Moors, from 
which about eighty horsemen rode out to the aid of 
their friends. The Spaniards turned and clattered 
back, with this force in sharp pursuit. In a minute 
or two both parties came at a furious rush into the 
glen. 

This was what De Yargas had foreseen. Bidding 
his trumpeter to sound, he dashed from his conceal- 
ment at the head of his men, drawn up in close 
array. They were upon the Moors almost before 
they were seen, their weapons making havoc in the 
disordered ranks. The skirmish was short and sharp. 



ABUL HASSAN AND THE ALCAIDE OP GIBRALTAR. 119 

The Moors, taken by surprise, and thrown into con- 
fusion, fell rapidly, their ranks being soon so thinned 
that scarce half of them turned in the retreat. 

" After them 1" cried De Yargas. " We will have a 
brush with the vanguard before the rear can come 
up." 

Onward after the flying Moors rode the gallant 
fifty, coming with such force and fury on the ad- 
vance-guard that many were overturned in the first 
shock. Those behind held their own with some 
firmness, but their leaders, the alcaides of Marabella 
and Casares, being slain, the line gave way and fled 
towards the rear-guard, passing through the droves 
of cattle, which they threw into utter confusion. 

Nothing further could be done. The trampling 
cattle had filled the air with a blinding cloud of 
dust. De Yargas was badly wounded. A few minutes 
might bring up the Moorish king with an over- 
whelming force. Despoiling the slain, and taking 
with them some thirty horses, the victorious Span- 
iards rode in triumph back to Castellar. 

The Moorish king, hearing the exaggerated report 
of the fugitives, feared that all Xeres was up and in 
arms. 

" Our road is blocked," cried some of his officers. 
" We had better abandon the animals and seek 
another route for our return." 

"Not so," cried the old king; "no true soldier 
gives up his booty without a blow. Follow me; 
we will have a brush with these dogs of Christians." 

In hot haste he galloped onward, right through 
the centre of the herd, driving the cattle to right 



120 HISTORICAL TALES. 

and left. Oa reaching the field of battle he found 
no Spaniard in sight, but dozens of his own men lay 
dead and despoiled, among them the two alcaides. 
The sight filled the warlike old king with rage. 
Confident that his foes had taken refuge in Castel- 
lar, he rode on to that place, set fire to two house8 
near its walls, and sent a shower of arrows into its 
streets. Pedro de Yargas was past taking to horse, 
but he ordered his men to make a sally, and a sharp 
skirmish took place under the walls. In the end the 
king drew off to the scene of the fight, buried the 
dead except the alcaides, whose bodies were laid on 
mules to be interred at Malaga, and, gathering the 
scattered herds, drove them past the walls of Cas- 
tellar by way of taunting the Christian foe. 

Yet the stern old Moorish warrior could thoroughly 
appreciate valor and daring even in an enemy. 

" What are the revenues of the alcaide of Gibral- 
tar?" he asked of two Christian captives he had 
taken. 

" We know not," they replied, " except that he is 
entitled to one animal out of every drove of cattle 
that passes his bounds." 

" Then Allah forbid that so brave a cavalier should 
be defrauded of his dues." 

He gave orders to select twelve of the finest cattle 
from the twelve droves that formed the herd of spoil, 
and directed that they should be delivered to Pedro 
de Yargas. 

" Tell him," said the king, " that I beg his pardon 
for not sending these cattle sooner, but have just 
learned they are his dues, and hasten to satisfy 



ABUL HASSAN AND THE ALCAIDE OF GIBRALTAR. 121 

them in courtesy to so worthy a cavalier. Tell 
him, at the same time, that I did not know the 
alcaide of Gibraltar was so vigilant in collecting his 
tolls." 

The soldierly pleasantry of the old king was much 
to the taste of the brave De Yargas, and called for 
a worthy return. He bade his men deliver a rich 
silken vest and a scarlet mantle to the messenger, 
to be presented to the Moorish king. 

"Tell his majesty," he said, "that I kiss his hands 
for the honor he has done me, and regret that my 
scanty force was not fitted to give him a more signal 
reception. Had three hundred horsemen, whom I 
have been promised from Xeres, arrived in time, I 
might have served him up an entertainment more 
befitting his station. They may arrive during the 
night, in which case his majesty, the king, may look 
for a royal service in the morning." 

" Allah preserve us," cried the king, on receiving 
this message, " from a brush with these hard riders 
of Xeres ! A handful of troops familiar with these 
wild mountain -passes may destroy an army encum- 
bered like ours with booty." 

It was a relief to the king to find that De Yargas 
was too sorely wounded to take the field in person. 
A man like him at the head of an adequate force might 
have given no end of trouble. During the day the 
retreat was pushed with all speed, the herds being 
driven with such haste that they were frequently 
broken and scattered among the mountain defiles, 
the result being that more than five thousand cattle 
were lost, being gathered up again by the Christians. 



122 HISTORICAL TALES. 

The king returned triumphantly to Malaga with the 
remainder, rejoicing in his triumph over the Duke 
of Medina Sidonia, and having taught King Ferdi- 
nand that the game of ravaging an enemy's country 
was one at which two could play. 



THE RIVAL KINGS OF GRANADA. 

" In the hand of God is the destiny of princes. 
He alone giveth empire," piously says an old Arabian 
chronicler, and goes on with the following story: 
A Moorish horseman, mounted on a fleet Arabian 
steed, was one day traversing the mountains which 
extend between Granada and the frontier of Murcia. 
He galloped swiftly through the valleys, but paused 
and gazed cautiously from the summit of every 
height. A squadron of cavaliers followed warily at 
a distance. There were fifty lances. The richness 
of their armor and attire showed them to be war- 
riors of noble rank, and their leader had a lofty and 
prince-like demeanor. 

For two nights and a day the cavalcade made its 
way through that rugged country, avoiding settled 
places and choosing the most solitary passes of the 
mountains. Their hardships were severe, but cam- 
paigning was their trade and their horses were of 
generous spirit. It was midnight when they left 
the hills and rode through darkness and silence to 
the city of Granada, under the shadows of whose 
high walls they passed to the gate of the Albaycin. 
Here the leader ordered his followers to halt and 
remain concealed. Taking four or five with him, 
he advanced to the gate and struck upon it with the 
handle of his scimitar. 

123 



124 HISTORICAL TALES. 

" Who is it knocks at this unseasonable hour of 
the night?" demanded the warder within. 

" Your king," was the answer. " Open and admit 
him." 

Opening a wicket, the warder held forth a light 
and looked at the man without. Recognizing him 
at a glance, he opened the gate, and the cavalier, 
who had feared a less favorable reception, rode in 
with his followers and galloped in haste to the hill 
of the Albaycin, where the new-comers knocked 
loudly at the doors of the principal dwellings, bid- 
ding their tenants to rise and take arms for their 
lawful sovereign. The summons was obeyed. Trum- 
pets soon resounded in the streets; the gleam of 
torches lit the dark avenues and flashed upon naked 
steel. From right and left the Moors came hurrying 
to the rendezvous. By daybreak the whole force 
of the Albaycin was under arms, ready to meet in 
battle the hostile array on the opposite height of 
the Alhambra. 

To tell what this midnight movement meant we 
must go back a space in history. The conquest of 
Granada was not due to Ferdinand and the Span- 
iards alone. It was greatly aided by the dissensions 
of the Moors, who were divided into two parties and 
fought bitterly with each other during their inter- 
vals of truce with the Christians. Ferdinand won 
in the game largely by a shrewd playing off of one 
of these factions against the other and by taking 
advantage of the weakness and vacillation of the 
young king, whose clandestine entrance to the city 
we have just seen. 



THE RIVAL KINGS OF GRANADA. 125 

Boabdil el Chico, or Boabdil the Young, as he was 
called, was the son of Muley Abul Hassan, against 
whom he had rebelled, and with such effect that, 
after a bloody battle in the streets of the city, the 
old king was driven without its walls. His tyranny 
had caused the people to gather round his son. 

From that time forward there was dissension and 
civil war in Granada, and the quarrels of its kings 
paved the way for the downfall of the state. The 
country was divided into the two factions of the 
young and the old kings. In the city the hill of the 
Albaycin, with its fortress of the Alcazaba, was the 
stronghold of Boabdil, while the partisans of Abul 
Hassan dwelt on the height of the Alhambra, the 
lower town between being the battle-ground of the 
rival factions. 

The succeeding events were many, but must be 
told in few words. King Boabdil, to show his prow- 
ess to the people, marched over the border to attack 
the city of Lucena. As a result he was himself as- 
sailed, his army put to the rout, and himself taken 
prisoner by the forces of Ferdinand of Aragon. To 
regain his liberty he acknowledged himself a vassal 
of the Spanish monarch, to whom he agreed to pay 
tribute. On his release he made his way to the city 
of Granada, but his adherents were so violently as- 
sailed by those of his father that the streets of the 
city ran blood, and Boabdil the Unlucky, as he was 
now called, found it advisable to leave the capital 
and fix his residence in Almeria, a large and splendid 
city whose people were devoted to him. 

As the years went on Muley Abul Hassan became 



126 HISTORICAL TALES. 

sadly stricken with age. He grew nearly blind and 
was bed-ridden with paralysis. His brother Abdal- 
lah, known as El Zagal, or " The Yaliant," comman- 
der-in-chief of the Moorish armies, assumed his duties 
as a sovereign, and zealously took up the quarrel 
with his son. He attempted to surprise the young 
king at Almeria, drove him out as a fugitive, and 
took possession of that city. At a later date he 
endeavored to remove him by poison. It was this 
attempt that spurred Boabdil to the enterprise we 
have just described. El Zagal was now full king in 
Granada, holding the Alhambra as his palace, and 
his nephew, who had been a wanderer since his flight 
from Almeria, was instigated to make a bold stroke 
for the throne. 

On the day after the secret return of Boabdil 
battle raged in the streets of Granada, a fierce en- 
counter taking place between the two kings in the 
square before the principal mosque. Hand to hand 
they fought with the greatest fury till separated by 
the charges of their followers. 

For days the conflict went on, death and turmoil 
ruling in Granada, such hatred existing between the 
two factions that neither side gave quarter. Boabdil 
was the weaker in men. Fearing defeat in conse- 
quence, he sent a messenger to Don Fadrique de 
Toledo, the Christian commander on the border, ask- 
ing for assistance. Don Fadrique had been in- 
structed by Ferdinand to give what aid he could to 
the young king, the vassal of Spain, and responded 
to Boabdil's request by marching with a body of 
troops to the vicinity of Granada. No sooner had 




KING CHARLES'S WELL, ALHAMBRA. 



THE RIVAL KINGS OP GRANADA. 127 

Boabdil seen their advancing banners than he sallied 
forth with a squadron to meet them. El Zagal, who 
was equally on the alert, sallied forth at the same 
time, and drew up his troops in battle array. 

The wary Don Fadrique, in doubt as to the mean- 
ing of this double movement, and fearing treachery, 
halted at a safe distance, and drew off for the night 
to a secure situation. Early the next morning a 
Moorish cavalier approached the sentinels and asked 
for an audience with Don Fadrique, as an envoy from 
El Zagal. The Christian troops, he said on behalf 
of the old king, had come to aid his nephew, but he 
was ready to offer them an alliance on better terms 
than those of Boabdil. Don Fadrique listened cour- 
teously to the envoy, but for better assurance, de- 
termined to send a representative to El Zagal him- 
self, under protection of a flag. For this purpose he 
selected Don Juan de Yera, one of the most intrepid 
and discreet of his cavaliers, who had in jesiva before 
been sent by King Ferdinand on a mission to the 
Alhambra. 

Don Juan, on reaching the palace, was well re- 
ceived by the old king, holding an interview with 
him which extended so far into the night that it 
was too late to return to camp, and he was lodged 
in a sumptuous apartment of the Alhambra. In the 
morning he was approached by one of the Moorish 
courtiers, a man given to jest and satire, who invited 
him to take part in a ceremony in the palace mosque. 
This invitation, given in jest, was received by the 
punctilious Catholic knight in earnest, and he re- 
plied, with stern displeasure, — 



128 HISTORICAL TALES. 

" The servants of Queen Isabella of Castile, who 
bear on their armor the cross of St. lago, never 
enter the temples of Mohammed, except to level them 
to the earth and trample on them." 

This discourteous reply was repeated by the cour- 
tier to a renegade, who, having newly adopted the 
Moorish faith, was eager to show his devotion to the 
Moslem creed, and proposed to engage the stiff- 
necked Catholic knight in argument. Seeking Don 
Juan, they found him playing chess with the alcaide 
of the palace, and the renegade at once began to 
comment on the Christian religion in uncompli- 
mentary terms. Don Juan was quick to anger, but 
he restrained himself, and replied, with grave se- 
verity, — 

" You would do well to cease talking about what 
you do not understand." 

The renegade and his jesting companion replied 
in a series of remarks intended as wit, though full 
of insolence, Don Juan fuming inwardly as he con- 
tinued to play. In the end they went too far, the 
courtier making an obscene comparison between the 
Yirgin Mary and Amina, the mother of Mohammed. 
In an instant the old knight sprang up, white with 
rage, and dashing aside chess-board and chessmen. 
Drawing his sword, he dealt such a " hermosa cuchi- 
lladd" (" handsome slash") across the head of the 
offending Moor as to stretch him bleeding on the 
floor. The renegade fled in terror, rousing the 
echoes of the palace with his outcries and stirring 
up guards and attendants, who rushed into the room 
where the irate Christian stood sword in hand defy- 



THE RIVAL KINGS OF GRANADA. 129 

ing Mohammed and his hosts. The alarm quickly 
reached the ears of the king, who hurried to the 
scene, his appearance at once restoring order. On 
hearing from the alcaide the cause of the affray, he 
acted with becoming dignity, ordering the guards 
from the room and directing that the renegade 
should be severely punished for daring to infringe 
the hospitality of the palace and insult an em- 
bassador. 

Don Juan, his quick fury evaporated, sheathed his 
sword, thanked the king for his courtesy, and pro- 
posed a return to the camp. But this was not easy 
of accomplishment. A garbled report of the tumult 
in the palace had spread to the streets, where it was 
rumored that Christian spies had been introduced into 
the palace with treasonable intent. In a brief time 
hundreds of the populace were in arms and throng- 
ing about the gate of Justice of the Alhambra, 
where they loudly demanded the death of all Chris- 
tians in the palace and of all who had introduced 
them. 

It was impossible for Don Juan to leave the palace 
by the route he had followed on his arrival. The 
infuriated mob would have torn him to pieces. But 
it was important that he should depart at once. All 
that El Zagal could do was to furnish him with a 
disguise, a swift horse, and an escort, and to let him 
out of the Alhambra by a private gate. This secret 
mode of departure was not relished by the proud 
Spaniard, but life was just then of more value than 
dignity, as he appreciated when, in Moorish dress, 
he passed through crowds who were thirsting for 

9 



130 HISTORICAL TALES. 

his blood. A gate of the city was at length reached, 
and Don Juan and his escort rode quietly out. But 
he was no sooner on the open plain than he spurred 
his horse to its speed, and did not draw rein until 
the banners of Don Fadrique waved above his head. 

Don Fadrique heard with much approval of the 
boldness of his envoy. His opinion of Don Juan's 
discretion he kept to himself. He rewarded him 
with a valuable horse, and wrote a letter of thanks 
to El Zagal for his protection to his emissary. Queen 
Isabella, on learning how stoutly the knight had 
stood up for the supremacy of the Blessed Virgin, 
was highly delighted, and conferred several distinc- 
tions of honor upon the cavalier besides presenting 
him with three hundred thousand maravedis. 

The outcome of the advances of the two kings was 
that Don Fadrique chose Boabdil as his ally, and 
sent him a reinforcement of foot-soldiers and arquc- 
busiers. This introduction of Christians into the 
city rekindled the flames of war, and it continued to 
rage in the streets for the space of fifty days. 

The result of the struggle between the two kings 
may be briefly told. While they contended for su- 
premacy Ferdinand of Aragon invaded their king- 
dom with a large army and marched upon the great 
seaport of Malaga. El Zagal sought an accommo- 
dation with Boabdil, that they might unite their 
forces against the common foe, but the short-sighted 
young man spurned his overtures with disdain. El 
Zagal then, the better patriot of the two, marched 
himself against the Christian host, hoping to sur- 
prise them in the passes of the mountains and per- 



THE RIVAL KINGS OF GRANADA. 131 

haps capture King Ferdinand himself. Unluckily 
for him, his well-laid plan was discovered by the 
Christians, who attacked and defeated him, his 
troops flying in uncontrollable disorder. 

The news of this disaster reached Granada before 
him and infuriated the people, who closed their gates 
and threatened the defeated king from the walls. 
Nothing remained to El Zagal but to march to Al- 
meria and establish his court in that city in which 
Boabdil had formerly reigned. Thus the positions 
of the rival kings became reversed. From that time 
forward the kingdom of Granada was divided into 
two, and the work of conquest by the Christians 
was correspondingly reduced. 



THE KNIGHT OF THE EXPLOITS. 

The dull monotony of sieges, of which there were 
many during the war with Granada, was little to 
the taste of the valorous Spanish cavaliers. They 
burned for adventure, and were ever ready for daring 
exploits, the more welcome the more dangerous they 
promised to be. One day during the siege of Baza, 
a strong city in El Zagal's dominions, two of these 
spirited young cavaliers, Francisco de Bazan and 
Antonio de Cueva, were seated on the ramparts of 
the siege works, bewailing the dull life to which 
they were confined. They were overheard by a 
veteran scout, who was familiar with the surround- 
ing country. 

" Senors," he said, " if you pine for peril and profit 
and are eager to pluck the beard of the fiery old 
Moorish king, I can lead you where you will have a 
fine opportunity to prove your valor. There are 
certain hamlets not far from the walls of El Zagal's 
city of Gruadix where rich booty awaits the daring 
raider. I can lead you there by a way that will 
enable you to take them by surprise ; and if you are 
as cool in the head as you are hot in the spur you 
may bear off spoils from under the very eyes of the 
king of the Moors." 

He had struck the right vein. The youths were 
at once hot for the enterprise. To win booty from 
182 



THE KNIGHT OF THE EXPLOITS. 133 

the very gates of Guadix was a stirring scheme, and 
they quickly found others of their age as eager as 
themselves for the daring adventure. In a short 
time they had enrolled a body of nearly three hun- 
dred horse and two hundred foot, well armed and 
equipped, and every man of them ready for the road. 

The force obtained, the raiders left the camp early 
one evening, keeping their destination secret, and 
made their way by starlight through the mountain 
passes, led by the adalid, or guide. Pressing rapidly 
onward by day and night, they reached the hamlets 
one morning just before daybreak, and fell on them 
suddenly, making prisoners of the inhabitants, sack- 
ing the houses, and sweeping the fields of their 
grazing herds. Then, without taking a moment to 
rest, they set out with all speed for the mountains, 
which they hoped to reach before the country could 
be roused. 

Several of the herdsmen had escaped and fled to 
Guadix, where they told El Zagal of the daring rav- 
age. Wild with rage at the insult, the old king at 
once sent out six hundred of his choicest horse and 
foot, with orders for swift pursuit, bidding them to 
recover the booty and bring him as prisoners the 
insolent marauders. The Christians, weary with 
their two days and nights of hard marching, were 
driving the captured cattle and sheep up a mountain- 
side, when, looking back, they saw a great cloud of 
dust upon their trail. Soon they discerned the tur- 
baned host, evidently superior to them in number, 
and man and horse in fresh condition. 

" They are too much for us," cried some of the 



134 HISTORICAL TALES. 

horsemen. " It would be madness in our worn-ont 
state to face a fresh force of that number. We shall 
have to let the cattle go and seek safety in flight." 

" What !" cried Antonio and Francisco, their 
leaders ; " abandon our prey without a blow ? De- 
sert our foot-soldiers and leave them to the enemy ? 
Bid any of you think El Zagal would let us off with- 
out a brush ? You do not give good Spanish coun- 
sel, for every soldier knows that there is less danger 
in presenting our faces than our backs to the foe, 
and fewer men are killed in a brave advance than in 
a cowardly retreat." 

Some of the cavaliers were affected by these words, 
but the mass of the party were chance volunteers, 
who received no pay and had nothing to gain by 
risking their lives. Consequently, as the enemy came 
near, the diversity of opinions grew into a tumult, 
and confusion reigned. The captains ordered the 
standard-bearer to advance against the Moors, confi- 
dent that any true soldiers would follow his banner. 
He hesitated to obey; the turmoil increased; in a 
moment more the horsemen might be in full flight. 

At this critical juncture a horseman of the roj^al 
guards rode forward, — the good knight Hernan Perez 
del Pulgar, governor of the fortress of Salar. Taking 
off the handkerchief which, in the Andalusian fash- 
ion, he wore round his head, he tied it to a lance and 
raised it in the air. 

" Comrades," he cried, " why do you load yourself 
with arms if you trust for safety to your feet ? We 
shall see who among you are the brave men and who 
are the cowards. If it is a standard you want, hero 



THE KNIGHT OF THE EXPLOITS. 135 

is mine. Let the man who has the heart to fight 
follow this handkerchief." 

Waving his improvised banner, he spurred against 
the Moors. Many followed him. Those who at first 
held back soon joined the advance. With one accord 
the whole body rushed with shouts upon the enemy. 
The Moors, who were now close at hand, were seized 
with surprise and alarm at this sudden charge. The 
foremost files turned and fled in panic, followed by 
the others, and pursued by the Christians, who cut 
them down without a blow in return. Soon the 
whole body was in full flight. Several hundred of 
the Moors were killed and their bodies despoiled, 
many were taken prisoners, and the Christians re- 
turned in triumph to the army, driving their long 
array of cattle and sheep and of mules laden with 
booty, and bearing in their front the standard under 
which they had fought. 

King Ferdinand was so delighted with this ex- 
ploit, and in particular with the gallant action of 
Perez del Pulgar, that he conferred knighthood upon 
the latter with much ceremony, and authorized him 
to bear upon his escutcheon a golden lion in an azure 
field, showing a lance with a handkerchief at its 
point. Eound its border were to be depicted the 
eleven alcaides defeated in the battle. This heroic 
deed was followed by so many others during the wars 
with the Moors that Perez del Pulgar became in time 
known by the flattering appellation of " He of the 
exploits." 

The most famous exploit of this daring knight 
took place during the siege of Granada, — the final 



136 HISTORICAL TALES. 

operation of the long war. Here single combats and 
minor skirmishes between Christian and Moorish 
cavaliers were of almost daily occurrence, until Fer- 
dinand strictly forbade all such tilts, as he saw that 
they gave zeal and courage to the Moors, and were 
attended with considerable loss of life among his 
bravest followers. 

This edict of the king was very distasteful to the 
fiery Moorish knights, who declared that the crafty 
Christian wished to destroy chivalry and put an end 
to heroic valor. They did their best to provoke the 
Spanish knights to combat, galloping on their fleet 
steeds close to the borders of the camp and hurling 
their lances over the barriers, each lance bearing the 
name of its owner with some defiant message. But 
despite the irritation caused by these insults to the 
Spanish knights, none of them ventured to disobey 
the mandate of the kino-. 

Chief among these Moorish cavaliers was one 
named Tarfe, a man of fierce and daring spirit and 
a giant in size, who sought to surpass his fellows in 
acts of audacity. In one of his sallies towards the 
Christian camp this bold cavalier leaped his steed 
over the barrier, galloped inward close to the royal 
quarters, and launched his spear with such strength 
that it quivered in the earth close to the tents of 
the sovereigns. The royal guards rushed out, but 
Tarfe was already far away, scouring the plain on his 
swift Barbary steed. On examining the lance it was 
found to bear a label indicating that it was intended 
for the queen, who was present in the camp. 

This bravado and the insult offered Queen Isabella 



THE KNIGHT OP THE EXPLOITS. 137 

excited the highest indignation among the Christian 
warriors. " Shall we let this insolent fellow outdo 
us?" said Perez del Pulgar, who was present. "I 
propose to teach these insolent Moors a lesson. Who 
will stand by me in an enterprise of desperate peril ?" 
The warriors knew Pulgar well enough to be sure 
that his promise of peril was likely to be kept, yet 
all who heard him were ready to volunteer. Out 
of them he chose fifteen, — men whom he knew he 
could trust for strength of arm and valor of heart. 

His proposed enterprise was indeed a perilous one. 
A Moorish renegade had agreed to guide him into 
the city by a secret pass. Once within, they were 
to set fire to the Alcaiceria and others of the princi- 
pal buildings, and then escape as best they could. 

At dead of night they set out, provided with the 
necessary combustibles. Their guide led them up a 
channel of the river Darro, until they halted under 
a bridge near the royal gate. Here Pulgar stationed 
six of his followers on guard, bidding them to keep 
silent and motionless. With the others he made his 
way up a drain of the stream which passed under a 
part of the city and opened into the streets. All 
was dark and silent. Not a soul moved. The rene- 
gade, at the command of Pulgar, led the adventurers 
to the principal mosque. Here the pious cavalier 
drew from under his cloak a parchment inscribed in 
large letters with Ave Maria, and nailed this to the 
door of the mosque, thus dedicating the heathen 
temple to the Yirgin Mary. 

They now hurried to the Alcaiceria, where the 
combustibles were placed ready to fire. Not until 



138 HISTORICAL TALES. 

this moment was it discovered that the torch -bearer 
had carelessly left his torch at the door of the 
mosque. It was too late to return. Pulgar sought 
to strike fire with flint and steel, but while doing so 
the Moorish guard came upon them in its rounds. 
Drawing his sword and followed by his comrades, 
the bold Spaniard made a tierce assault upon the 
astonished Moors, quickly putting them to flight. 
But the enterprise was at an end. The alarm was 
given and soldiers were soon hurrying in every di- 
rection through the streets. Guided by the rene- 
gade, Pulgar and his companions hastened to the 
drain by which they had entered, plunged into it, 
and reached their companions under the bridge. 
Here mounting their horses, they rode back to the 
camp. 

The Moors were at a loss to imagine the purpose 
of this apparently fruitless enterprise, but wild was 
their exasperation the next morning when they 
found the " Ave Maria" on the door of a mosque in 
the centre of their city. The mosque thus sanctified 
by Perez del Pulgar was actually converted into a 
Christian cathedral after the capture of the city. 

We have yet to describe the sequel of this ex- 
ploit. On the succeeding day a powerful train left 
the Christian camp and advanced towards the city 
walls. In its centre were the king and queen, the 
prince and princesses, and the ladies of the court, 
surrounded by the royal body-guard, — a richly 
dressed troop, composed of the sons of the most 
illustrious families of Spain. The Moors gazed with 
wonder upon this rare pageant, which moved in 



THE KNIGHT OF THE EXPLOITS. 139 

glittering array across the vega to the sound of 
martial music; a host brilliant with banners and 
plumes, shining arms and shimmering silks, for the 
court and the army moved there hand in hand. 
Queen Isabella had expressed a wish to see, nearer 
at hand, a city whose beauty was of world-wide re- 
nown, and the Marquis of Cadiz had drawn out this 
powerful escort that she might be gratified in her 
desire. The queen had her wish, but hundreds of 
men died that she might be pleased. 

While the royal dame and her ladies were gazing 
with delight on the red towers of the Alhambra, 
rising in rich contrast through the green verdure of 
their groves, a large force of Moorish cavalry poured 
from the city gates, ready to accept the gage of 
battle which the Christians seemed to offer. The 
first to come were a host of richly armed and gayly 
attired light cavalry, mounted on fleet and fiery 
Barbary steeds. Heavily armed cavalry followed, 
and then a strong force of foot-soldiers, until an 
army was drawn up on the plain. Queen Isabella 
saw this display with disquiet, and forbade an at- 
tack upon the enemy, or even a skirmish, as it would 
pain her if a single warrior should lose his life 
through the indulgence of her curiosity. 

As a result, though the daring Moorish horsemen 
rode fleetly along the Christian front, brandishing 
their lances, and defying the cavaliers to mortal 
combat, not a Spaniard stirred. The cavaliers were 
under the eyes of Ferdinand, by whom such duels 
had been strictly forbidden. At length, however, 
they were incensed beyond their powers of resist- 



140 HISTORICAL TALES. 

ance. Forth from the city rode a stalwart Moorish 
horseman, clad in steel armor, and bearing a huge 
buckler and a ponderous lance. His device showed 
him to be the giant warrior Tarfe, the daring infidel 
who had flung his lance at the queen's tent. As he 
rode out he was followed by the shouts and laughter 
of a mob, and when he came within full view of the 
Spanish army the cavaliers saw, with indignant 
horror, tied to his horse's tail and dragging in the 
dust, the parchment with its inscription of "Ave 
Maria" which Hernan Perez del Pulgar had nailed 
to the door of the mosque. 

This insult was more than Castilian flesh and 
blood could bear. Hernan was not present to main- 
tain his deed, but Garcilasso de la Yega, one of the 
young companions of his exploit, galloped to the 
king and earnestly begged permission to avenge the 
degrading insult to their holy faith. The king, who 
was as indignant as the knight, gave the desired 
permission, and Garcilasso, closing his visor and 
grasping his spear, rode out before the ranks and 
defied the Moor to combat to the death. 

Tarfe asked nothing better, and an exciting pas- 
sage at arms took place on the plain with the two 
armies as witnesses. Tarfe was the stronger of the 
two, and the more completely armed. He was skilled 
in the use of his weapons and dexterous in man- 
aging his horse, and the Christians trembled for their 
champion. 

The warriors met in mid career with a furious 
shock. Their lances were shivered, and Garcilasso 
was borne back in his saddle. But his horse wheeled 



THE KNIGHT OP THE EXPLOITS. 141 

away and he was quickly firm in his seat again, 
sword in hand. Sword against scimitar, the com- 
batants returned to the encounter. The Moor rode 
a trained horse, that obeyed his every signal. Eound 
the Christian he circled, seeking some opening for a 
blow. But the smaller size of Garcilasso was made 
equal by greater agility. Now he parried a blow 
with his sword, now he received a furious stroke on 
his shield. Each of the combatants before many 
minutes felt the edge of the steel, and their blood 
began to flow. 

At length the Moor, thinking his antagonist ex- 
hausted, rushed in and grappled with him, using all 
his force to fling him from his horse. Garcilasso 
grasped him in return with all his strength, and 
they fell together to the earth, the Moor uppermost. 
Placing his knee on the breast of the Spaniard, 
Tarfe drew his dagger and brandished it above his 
throat. Terror filled the Christian ranks ; a shout of 
triumph rose from those of the Moors. But suddenly 
Tarfe was seen to loosen his grasp and roll over in 
the dust. Garcilasso had shortened his sword and, 
as Tarfe raised his arm, had struck him to the heart. 

The rules of chivalry were rigidly observed. No 
one interfered on either side. Garcilasso despoiled 
his victim, raised the inscription " Ave Maria" on 
the point of his sword, and bore it triumphantly 
back, amid shouts of triumph from the Christian 
army. 

By this time the passions of the Moors were so 
excited that they could not be restrained. They 
made a furious charge upon the Spanish host, driving 



142 



HISTORICAL TALES. 



in its advanced ranks. The word to attack was 
given the Spaniards in return, the war-cry " Santi- 
ago !" rang along the Hne, and in a short time both 
armies were locked in furious combat. The affair 
ended in a repulse of the Moors, the foot-soldiers 
taking to flight, and the cavalry vainly endeavoring 
to rally them. They were pursued to the gates of the 
city, more than two thousand of them being killed, 
wounded, or taken prisoners in "the queen's skir- 
mish," as the affair came to be called. 



THE LAST SIGH OF THE MOOR. 

In 1492, nearly eight centuries after the conquest 
of Spain by the Arabs, their dominion ended in the 
surrender of the city of Granada by King Boabdil 
to the army of Ferdinand and Isabella. The empire 
of the Arab Moors had shrunk, year by year and cen- 
tury by century, before the steady advance of the 
Christians, until only the small kingdom of Granada 
remained. This, distracted by anarchy within and 
assailed by King Ferdinand with all the arts of 
statecraft and all the strength of arms, gradually 
decreased in dimensions, city after city, district after 
district, being lost, until only the single city of 
Granada remained. 

This populous and powerful city would have 
proved very difficult to take by the ordinary methods 
of war, and could only have been subdued with 
great loss of life and expenditure of treasure. Ferdi- 
nand assailed it by a less costly and more exasper- 
ating method. Granada subsisted on the broad and 
fertile vega or plain surrounding it, a region mar- 
vellously productive in grain and fruits and rich in 
cattle and sheep. It was a cold-blooded and cruel 
system adopted by the Spanish monarch. He as- 
sailed the city through the vega. Disregarding the 
city, he marched his army into the plain at the time 
of harvest and so thoroughly destroyed its growing 

143 



144 HISTORICAL TALES. 

crops that the smiling and verdant expanse was left 
a scene of frightful desolation. This was not accom- 
plished without sharp reprisals by the Moors, but the 
Spaniard persisted until he had converted the fruit- 
ful paradise into a hopeless desert, and then marched 
away, leaving the citizens to a winter of despair. 

The next year he came again, encamped his army 
near the city, destroyed what little verdure remained 
near its walls, and waited calmly until famine and 
anarchy should force the citizens to yield. He at- 
tempted no siege. It was not necessary. He could 
safely trust to his terrible allies. The crowded city 
held out desperately while the summer passed and 
autumn moved on to winter's verge, and then, with 
famine stalking through their streets and invading 
their homes, but one resource remained to the citi- 
zens, — surrender. 

Ferdinand did not wish to distress too deeply the 
unhappy people. To obtain possession of the city 
on any terms was the one thought then in his mind. 
Harshness could come later, if necessary. There- 
fore, on the 25th of November, 1492, articles of ca- 
pitulation were signed, under which the Moors of 
Granada were to retain all their possessions, be pro- 
tected in their religious exercises, and governed by 
their own laws, which were to be administered by 
their own officials ; the one unwelcome proviso being 
that they should become subjects of Spain. To 
Boabdil were secured all his rich estates and the pat- 
rimony of the crown, while he was to receive in ad- 
dition thirty thousand castellanos in gold. Excellent 
terms, one would say, could Spain have been trusted 



THE LAST SIGH OF THE MOOR. 145 

to live up to them — which Spain only did as long as 
good faith served her purpose. 

On the night preceding the surrender doleful 
lamentations filled the halls of the Alhambra, for 
the household of Boabdil were bidding a last fare- 
well to that delightful abode. The most precious 
effects were hastily packed upon mules, and with 
tears and wailings the rich hangings and ornaments 
of the beautiful apartments were removed. Day had 
not yet dawned when a sorrowful cavalcade moved 
through an obscure postern gate of the palace and 
wound through a retired quarter of the city. It 
was the family of the deposed monarch, which he 
had sent off thus early to save them from possible 
scoffs and insults. 

The sun had barely risen when three signal-guns 
boomed from the heights of the Alhambra, and the 
Christian army began its march across the vega. 
To spare the feelings of the citizens it was decided 
that the city should not be entered by its usual 
gates, and a special road had been opened leading to 
the Alhambra. 

At the head of the procession moved the king and 
queen, with the prince and princesses and the dig- 
nitaries and ladies of the court, attended by the 
royal guards in their rich array. This cortege halted 
at the village of Armilla, a league and a half from 
the city. Meanwhile, Don Pedro Gonzalez de Men- 
doza, Grand Cardinal of Spain, with an escort of 
three thousand foot and a troop of cavalry, pro- 
ceeded towards the Alhambra to take possession of 
that noblest work of the Moors. At their approach 

10 



146 HISTORICAL TALES. 

Boabdil left the palace by a postern gate attended 
by fifty cavaliers, and advanced to meet the grand 
cardinal, whom, in words of mournful renunciation, 
be bade to take possession of the royal fortress of 
the Moors. Then he passed sadly onward to meet 
the sovereigns of Spain, who had halted awaiting 
his approach, while the army stood drawn up on the 
broad plain. 

As the Spaniards waited in anxious hope, all eyes 
fixed on the Alhambra heights, they saw the silver 
cross, the great standard of this crusade, rise upon 
the great watch-tower, where it sparkled in the sun- 
beams, while beside it floated the pennon of St. 
James, at sight of which a great shout of " Santiago I 
Santiago !" rose from the awaiting host. Next rose 
the royal standard, amid resounding cries of " Cas- 
tile! Castile! For King Ferdinand and Queen Isa- 
bella." The sovereigns sank upon their knees, giving 
thanks to God for their great victory, the whole 
army followed their example, and the choristers of 
the royal chapel broke forth into the solemn anthem 
of " Te Deum laudamus^ 

Ferdinand now advanced to a point near the banks 
of the Xenil, where he was met by the unfortunate 
Boabdil. As the Moorish king approached he made 
a movement to dismount, which Ferdinand pre- 
vented. He then off'ered to kiss the king's hand. 
This homage also, as previously arranged, was de- 
clined, whereupon Boabdil leaned forward and kissed 
the king's right arm. He then with a resigned mien 
delivered the keys of the city. 

" These keys," he said, '' are the last relics of the 



THE LAST SIGH OP THE MOOR. 147 

Arabian empire in Spain. Tliine, O king, are our 
trophies, our kingdom, and our person. Such is the 
will of God ! Eeceive them with the clemency thou 
hast promised, and which we look for at thy hands." 

" Doubt not our promises," said Ferdinand, kindly, 
" nor that thou shalt regain from our friendship the 
prosperity of which the fortune of war has deprived 
thee." 

Then drawing from his finger a gold ring set with 
a precious stone, Boabdil presented it to the Count 
of Tendilla, who, he was informed, was to be gov- 
ernor of the city, saying, — 

" With this ring Grranada has been governed. Take 
it and govern with it, and God make you more fortu- 
nate than I." 

He then proceeded to the village of Armilla, where 
Queen Isabella remained. She received him with 
the utmost courtesy and graciousness, and delivered 
to him his son, who had been held as a hostage for 
the fulfilment of the capitulation. Boabdil pressed 
the child tenderly to his bosom, and moved on until 
he had joined his family, from whom and their at- 
tendants the shouts and strains of music of the vic- 
torious army drew tears and moans. 

At length the weeping train reached the summit 
of an eminence about two leagues distant which 
commanded the last view of Granada. Here they 
paused for a look of farewell at the beautiful and 
beloved city, whose towers and minarets gleamed 
brightly before them in the sunshine. While they 
still gazed a peal of artillery, faint with distance, 
told them that the city was taken possession of and 



148 HISTORICAL TALES. 

was lost to the Moorish kings forever. Boabdil 
could no longer contain himself. 

" Allah achbar ! God is great !" he murmured, 
tears belieing his words of resignation. 

His mother, a woman of intrepid soul, was indig- 
nant at this display of weakness. 

" You do well," she cried, " to weep like a woman 
for what you failed to defend like a man." 

Others strove to console the king, but his tears 
were not to be restrained. 

" Allah achbar !" he exclaimed again ; " when did 
misfortunes ever equal mine ?" 

The hill where this took place afterwards became 
known as Feg Allah Achbar ; but the point of view 
where Boabdil obtained the last prospect of Granada 
is called by the Spaniards " El ultimo suspiro del 
Iforo," or " The last sigh of the Moor." 

As Boabdil thus took his last look at beautiful 
Granada, it behooves us to take a final backward 
glance at Arabian Spain, from whose history we 
have drawn so much of interest and romance. In 
this hospitable realm civilization dwelt when it had 
fled from all Europe besides. Here luxury reigned 
while barbarism prevailed in other European lands. 
We are told that in Cordova a man might walk in 
a straight line for ten miles by the light of the pub- 
lic lamps, while seven hundred years afterwards 
there was not a single public lamp in London streets. 
Its avenues were solidly paved, while centuries after- 
wards the people of Paris, on rainy days, stepped 
from their door-sills into mud ankle deep. The dwell- 
ings were marked by beauty and luxury, while the 



THE LAST SIGH OP THE MOOR. 149 

people of Europe dwelt in miserable huts, dressed in 
leather, and lived on the rudest and least nutritive 
food. 

The rulers of France, England, and Germany 
lived in rude buildings without chimneys or win- 
dows, with a hole in the roof for the smoke to es- 
cape, at a time when the royal halls of Arabian Spain 
were visions of grace and beauty. The residences 
of the Arabs had marble balconies overhanging 
orange-gardens ; their floors and walls were fre- 
quently of rich and graceful mosaic; fountains 
gushed in their courts, quicksilver often taking the 
place of water, and falling in a glistening spray. In 
summer cool air was drawn into the apartments 
through ventilating towers ; in winter warm and 
perfumed air was discharged through hidden pas- 
sages. From the ceilings, corniced with fretted gold, 
great chandeliers hung. Here were clusters of frail 
marble columns, which, in the boudoirs of the sul- 
tanas, gave way to verd-antique incrusted with lapis 
lazuli. The furniture was of sandal- or citron- wood, 
richly inlaid with gold, silver, or precious minerals. 
Tapestry hid the walls, Persian carpets covered the 
floors, pillows and couches of elegant forms were 
spread about the rooms. Great care was given to 
bathing and personal cleanliness at a time when such 
a thought had not dawned upon Christian Europe. 
Their pleasure-gardens were of unequalled beauty, 
and were rich with flowers and fruits. In short, in 
this brief space it is impossible to give more than a 
bare outline of the marvellous luxury which sur- 
rounded this people, recently come from the deserts 



150 HISTORICAL TALES. 

of Arabia, at a time when the remainder of Europe 
was plunged into the rudest barbarism. 

Much might be said of their libraries, their uni- 
versities, their scholars and scientists, and the mag- 
nificence of their architecture, of which abundant 
examples still remain in the cities of Spain, the Al- 
hambra of Granada, the palace which Boabdil so 
reluctantly left, being almost without an equal foi 
lightness, grace, and architectural beauty in the 
cities of the world. Well might the dethroned mon- 
arch look back with bitter regret upon this rarest 
monument of the Arabian civilization and give vent, 
in farewell to its far-seen towers, to " The last sigh 
of the Moor." 



THE RETURN OF COLUMBUS. 

In the spring succeeding the fall of Granada there 
came to Spain a glory and renown that made her 
the envy of all the nations of Europe. During the 
year before an Italian mariner, Christopher Colum- 
bus by name, after long haunting the camp and 
court of Ferdinand and Isabella, had been sent out 
with a meagre expedition in the forlorn hope of dis- 
covering new lands beyond the seas. In March, 
1493, extraordinary tidings spread through the king- 
dom and reached the ears of the monarchs at their 
court in Barcelona. The tidings were that the poor 
and despised mariner had returned to Palos with 
wonderful tales of the discovery of a vast, rich realm 
beyond the seas, — a mighty new empire for Spain. 

The marvellous news set the whole kingdom wild 
with joy. The ringing of bells and solemn thanks- 
givings welcomed Columbus at the port from which 
he had set sail. On his journey to the king's court 
his progress was impeded by the multitudes who 
thronged to see the suddenly famous man, — the hum- 
ble mariner who had discovered for Spain what every 
one already spoke of as a " New World." With him 
he brought several of the bronze-hued natives of 
that far land, dressed in their simple island costume, 
and decorated, as they passed through the principal 
cities, with collars, bracelets, and other ornaments 

151 



152 HISTORICAL TALES. 

of gold. He exhibited, also, gold in dust and in 
shapeless masses, many new plants, some of them 
of high medicinal value, several animals never before 
seen in Europe, and birds whose brilliant plumage 
attracted glances of delight from all eyes. 

It was mid- April when Columbus reached Barce- 
lona. The nobiUty and knights of the court met him 
in splendid array and escorted him to the royal pres- 
ence through the admiring throngs that filled the 
streets. Ferdinand and Isabella, with their son, 
Prince John, awaited his arrival seated under a su- 
perb canopy of state. On the approach of the dis- 
coverer they rose and extended their hands to him 
to kiss, not suifering him to kneel in homage. In- 
stead, they bade him seat himself before them, — a 
mark of condescension to a person of his rank un- 
known before in the haughty court of Castile. He 
was, at that moment, '• the man whom the king de- 
lighted to honor," and it was the proudest period in 
his life when, having proved triumphantly all for 
which he had so long contended, he was honored as 
the equal of the proud monarchs of Spain. 

At the request of the sovereigns Columbus gave 
them a brief account of his adventures, in a dignified 
tone, that warmed with enthusiasm as he proceeded. 
He described the various trojDical islands he had 
landed upon, spoke with favor of their delightful 
climate and the fertility of their soil, and exhibited 
the specimens he had brought as examples of their 
fruitfulness. He dwelt still more fully upon their 
wealth in the precious metals, of which he had been 
assured by the natives, and offered the gold he 



THE RETURN OF COLUMBUS. 153 

brought with him as evidence. Lastly, he expa- 
tiated on the opportunity offered for the extension 
of the Christian religion through lands populous 
with pagans, — a suggestion which appealed strongly 
to the Spanish heart. When he ceased the king and 
queen, with all present, threw themselves on their 
knees and gave thanks to God, while the solemn 
strains of the Te JDeum were poured forth by the 
choir of the royal chapel. 

Throughout his residence in Barcelona Columbus 
continued to receive the most honorable distinction 
from the Spanish sovereigns. "When Ferdinand rode 
abroad the admiral rode by his side. Isabella, the 
true promoter of his expedition, treated him with 
the most gracious consideration. The courtiers, 
emulating their sovereigns, gave frequent entertain- 
ments in his honor, treating him with the punctilious 
deference usually shown only to a noble of the high- 
est rank. It cannot be said, however, that envy at 
the high distinction shown this lately obscure and 
penniless adventurer was quite concealed, and at one 
of these entertainments is said to have taken place 
the famous episode of the egg. 

A courtier of shallow wit, with the purpose of 
throwing discredit on the achievement of Columbus, 
intimated that it was not so great an exploit after 
all ; all that was necessary was to sail west a certain 
number of days ; the lands lay there waiting to be 
discovered. Were there not other men in Spain, 
he asked, capable of this ? 

The response of Columbus was to take an egg and 
ask those present to make it stand upright on its 



154 HISTORICAL TALES. 

end. After they had tried and failed he struck the 
egg on the table, cracking the shell and giving it a 
base on which to stand. 

" But anybody could do that !" cried the critic. 

" Yes ; and anybody can become a discoverer when 
once he has been shown the way," retorted Colum- 
bus. " It is easy to follow in a known track." 

By this time all Europe had heard of the brilliant 
discovery of the Genoese mariner, and everywhere 
admiration at his achievement and interest in its re- 
sults were manifested. Europe had never been so 
excited by any single event. The world was found 
to be larger than had been dreamed of, and it was 
evident that hundreds of new things remained to 
be known. Word came to Barcelona that King 
John of Portugal was equipping a large armament 
to obtain a share of the new realms in the west, and 
all haste was made to anticipate this dangerous rival 
by sending Columbus again to the New World. 

On the 25th of September, 1493, he set sail with a 
gallant armament, which quite threw into the shade 
his three humble caravels of the year before. It con- 
sisted of seventeen vessels, some of them of large 
size for that day, and fifteen hundred souls, including 
several persons of rank, and members of the royal 
household. Many of those that had taken part in 
the Moorish war, stimulated by the love of adven- 
ture, were to win fame in the coming years in the 
conquest of the alluring realms of the West, and the 
earliest of these sailed now under the banner of the 
Great Admiral. 

The story of Columbus is too familiar to readers 



THE RETURN OF COLUMBUS. 155 

for more to be said of it here. It was one in which 
the boasted honor of the Spanish court was soon 
lost under a cloud of perfidy. Envy and malice 
surrounded the discoverer, and in 1500 he was sent 
home in chains by an infamous governor. The king, 
roused by a strong display of public indignation, 
disavowed the base act of his agent, and received 
Columbus again with a show of favor, but failed to 
reinstate him in the office of which he had been un- 
justly deprived. From that time forward the story 
of the discoverer was one of neglect and faithless 
treatment, he fell into poverty, and died miserable 
and neglected at Valladolid in 1506, keeping the 
fetters which had been placed on his limbs till the 
last, as evidence of the perfidy of Spain. 



PETER THE CRUEL AND THE 
FREE COMPANIES. 

About the middle of the year 1365 a formidable 
expedition set out from France for the invasion of 
Castile. It consisted of the celebrated Free Com- 
panies, marauding bands of French and English 
knights and archers whose allegiance was to the 
sword, and who, having laid waste France, now 
sought fresh prey in Spain. Valiant and daring 
were these reckless freebooters, bred to war, living 
on rapine, battle their delight, revel their relax- 
ation. For years the French and English Free 
Companies had been enemies. JSTow a truce existed 
between their princes, and they had joined hands 
under the leadership of the renowned knight Ber- 
trand du Gruesclin, at that time the most famous 
soldier of France. Sir Hugh de Calverley headed the 
English bands, known as the White Company, and 
made up largely of men-at-arms, that is, of heavy 
armed horsemen ; but with a strong contingent of 
the formidable English archers. The total force 
comprised more than twelve thousand men. 

" You lead the life of robbers," said Du Gueschn 

to them. " Every day you risk your lives in forays, 

which yield you more blows than booty. I come to 

propose an enterprise worthy of gallant knights and 

156 



PETER THE CRUEL AND THE FREE COMPANIES. 157 

to open to you a new field of action. In Spain both 
glory and profit await you. You will there find a 
rich and avaricious king who possesses great treas- 
ures, and is the ally of the Saracens ; in fact, is half a 
pagan himself. We propose to conquer his kingdom 
and to bestow it on the Count of Trastamara, an old 
comrade of yours, a good lance, as you all know, and 
a gentle and generous knight, who will share with 
you his land when you win it for him from the Jews 
and Moslems of that wicked king, Don Pedro. Come, 
comrades, let us honor God and shame the devil." 

The Free Companies were ready at a word to fol- 
low his banner. Among them were many knights 
of noble birth who valued glory above booty, and 
looked upon it as a worthy enterprise to dethrone a 
cruel and wicked king, the murderer of his queen. 
As for the soldiers, they cared not against whom 
they fought, if booty was to be had. 

"Messire Bertrand," they said, "gives all that he 
wins to his men-at-arms. He is the father of the 
soldier. Let us march with him." 

And so the bargain was made and the Free Com- 
panies marched away, light of heart and strong of 
hand, with a promising goal before them, and a 
chance of abundance of fighting before they would 
see their homes again. 

Peter the Cruel, King of Castile and Leon, amply 
deserved to be dethroned. His reign had been one 
of massacre. All whom he suspected died by the 
dagger of the assassin. He bitterly hated his two 
half-brothers, Fadrique and Henry. Fadrique he 
enticed to his court by a show of friendship, and 



158 HISTORICAL TALES. 

then had him brutally murdered at the gate of his 
palace, the Alcazir of Seville. But his treatment of 
his queen was what made him specially odious to 
his people. He married a French princess, Blanche 
of Bourbon, but deserted her after two days to re- 
turn to his mistress, Maria de Pedilla. Blanche 
was taken to Toledo, where she was so closely con- 
fined that the people rose and rescued her from the 
king's guards. Peter marched in anger against the 
city, but its people defied him and kept the queen. 
Then the crafty villain pretended sorrow and asked 
for a reconciliation. The queen consented, went 
back to him, and was quickly imprisoned in a strong 
fortress, where she was murdered by his orders in 
1361. 

It was this shameful act and the murder of his 
brother Fadrique that roused the people to insurrec- 
tion. Henry of Trastamara, the remaining brother, 
headed a revolt against the tyrant and invited the 
Free Companies to his aid. These were the circum- 
stances that gave rise to the march of Du Guescliti 
and Calverley and their battle-loving bands. 

The adventurers wore crosses on their vests and 
banners, as though they were a company of cru- 
saders raised in the service of the church. But in 
truth they were under the ban of excommunication, 
for they had no more spared the church than the 
castle or the cottage. Du Guesclin, determined to 
relieve them from this ban and force the Pope to 
grant them absolution, directed his march upon 
Avignon, the papal residence in France. It was not 
only absolution he wanted. The papal coff'ers were 




^v 



HALL OF AMBASSADORS, ALCAZAR OF SEVILLE. 



PETER THE CRUEL AND THE FREE COMPANIES. 159 

full; his military chest was empty; his soldiers 
would not remain tractable unless well paid; the 
church should have the privilege of aiding the army. 

It was with dismay that the people of Avignon 
beheld the White Company encamp before their ram- 
parts, late in the year 1365. The Cardinal of Jeru- 
salem was sent in haste to their camp, with a promise 
from the Holy Father that he would remove the ban 
of excommunication if they would evacuate the ter- 
ritory of the Church. The cardinal's mission was a 
dangerous one, for the fierce Free Companions had no 
reverence for priest or pope. He had hardly crossed 
the Ehone before he was confronted by a turbulent 
band of English archers, who demanded if he had 
brought money. 

" Money ?" he asked, in faltering tones. 

"Ay, money!" they insolently cried, impeding his 
passage. 

On reaching Du Guesclin's tent he was treated 
with more politeness, but was met with the same 
demand. 

" We cannot control our troops," said some of the 
chiefs ; " and, as they are ready to hazard their lives 
for the greater glory of the faith, they well deserve 
the aid of the Church." 

" The Holy Father will incur much danger if he 
refuses the demand of our men," said Du Guesclin, 
in smooth but menacing tones. " They have become 
good Catholics in spite of themselves, and would 
very readily return to their old trade." 

Imminent as the danger was, the Pope resisted, 
and tried to scare off that flock of reckless war- 



160 HISTORICAL TALES. 

hawks by the thunders of papal condemnation. Eut 
he soon learned that appeals and threats alike were 
wasted on the Free Companies. From the windows 
of his palace he could see groups of his unruly vis- 
itors at work plundering farms and country houses. 
Fires were here and there kindled. The rich lands 
of Avignon were in danger of a general ravage. 

" What can I do ?" said Du Guesclin to the com- 
plaints of the people. " My soldiers are excommu- 
nicated. The devil is in them, and we are no longer 
their masters." 

Evidently there was but one way to get rid of this 
irreligious crew. The chiefs agreed to be satisfied 
with five thousand golden florins. This sum was 
paid, and the knights companions, laden with plun- 
der and absolved from their sins, set out in the high- 
est spirits, singing the praises of their captain and 
the joys of war. Such was their farewell to France. 

Onward they marched, across the Pyrenees and 
into Aragon, whose king had joined with Henry of 
Trastamara in requesting their presence. They were 
far from welcome to the people of this region of 
Spain. Pedro lY. of Aragon had agreed to pay 
them one hundred thousand golden florins on condi- 
tion that they should pass through his dominions 
without disorder; but the adventurers, imagining 
that they were already in the enemy's country, be- 
gan their usual service of fire and sword. In Bar- 
bastro they pillaged the houses, killed the burghers 
or tortured them to extort ransom, and set fire to a 
church in which some had taken refuge, burning 
alive more than two hundred persons. 



PETER THE CRIJEL AND THE FREE COMPANIES. 161 

If such was the course of these freebootiug bands 
in the country of their friends, what would it be in 
that of their foes ? Every effort was made to get 
them out of the country as soon as possible. Im- 
mediate action was needed, for the warlike moun- 
taineers were beginning to reveuge tlie robberies of 
the adventurers by waylaying their convoys and 
killing their stragglers. In early March, 1366, the 
frontier was passed, Sir Hugh de Calverley leading 
his men against Borja, a town of Aragon which was 
occupied by soldiers of Castile. 

The garrison fled on their approach, and soon the 
army entered Castile and marched upon Calahorra, 
a town friendly to Prince Henry, and which opened 
its gates at sight of their banners. Here an inter- 
esting ceremony took place. Du Guesclin and the 
other leaders of the Free Companies, with as much 
assurance as if they had already conquered Castile, 
offered Henry the throne. 

"Take the crown," said the burly leader. "You 
owe this honor to the many noble knights who have 
elected you their leader in this campaign. Don 
Pedro, your enemy, has refused to meet you in the 
battle-field, and thus acknowledges that the throne 
of Castile is vacant." 

Henry held back. He felt that these foreigners 
had not the crown of Castile in their gift. But 
when the Castilians present joined in the demand he 
yielded, and permitted them to place the crown upon 
his head. His chief captain at once unfurled the 
royal standard, and passed through the camp, cry- 
ing, " Castile for King Henry ! Long live King 

11 



162 HISTORICAL TALES. 

Henry !" Then, amid loud acclamations, he planted 
the banner on the crest of a hill on the road to 
Burgos. 

We need not delay on the events of this campaign. 
Everywhere the people of Castile fell away from 
their cruel king, and Henry's advance was almost 
unopposed. Soon he was in Burgos, and Don Pedro 
had become a fugitive without an army and almost 
without a friend. Henry was now again crowned 
king, many of the Castilian nobles taking part in 
the imposing ceremony. 

The first acts of the new king were to recompense 
the men who had raised him to that high office. 
The money which he found in the treasury served 
as a rich reward to the followers of Du Guesclin. 
He gave titles of nobility and grants of land with a 
free hand to the chiefs of the Free Companies and 
his other companions in arms. On Du Guesclin he 
conferred his own countship of Trastamara, and 
added to it the lordship of Molino, with the domains 
appertaining to both. Calverley was made Count 
of Carrion, and received the domains which had 
formerly been held by the sons-in-law of the Cid. 
Lesser rewards were given to lesser chiefs, and none 
had reason to accuse Henry of Castile of want of 
generosity. 

But the Free Companions soon became a sword in 
the side of the new king. As there was no more 
fighting to be done, they resumed their old occu- 
pation of pillaging, and from every side complaints 
rained in upon the throne. Henry felt it necessary 
to get rid of his unruly friends with all despatch. 



PETER THE CRUEL AND THE FREE COMPANIES. 163 

Eetaining Da Guesclin and Calverley in his service, 
with fifteen hundred lances, naainly French and 
Breton, he dismissed the remainder, placating them 
with rich presents and warm thanks. Nothing loath, 
and gratified that they had avenged the murdered 
Queen Blanche, they took their way back, finding 
abundant chance for fighting on their return. The 
Castilians, the Navarrese, and the Aragonese all 
rose against them, and everywhere they had to force 
a passage with their swords. But nothing could 
stop them. Spain, accustomed to fight with Arabs 
and Moors, had no warriors fit to face these intrepid 
and heavily armed veterans. Through the Pyrenees 
they made their way, and here cut a road with their 
swords through the main body of a French army 
which had gathered to oppose their march. Once 
more they were upon the soil of France. 

It was the English and Gascon bands that were 
principally opposed. It was known that the Black 
Prince was preparing to invade Spain, and an effort 
was made to cut off the free lances who might en- 
list under his banners. This famous knight, son of 
Edward III. of England, and victor at the battle 
of Poitiers, where he had taken prisoner the king 
of France, was a cousin of the fugitive king of 
Castile, who sought him at Cape Breton, and begged 
his aid to recover his dominions. The chivalrous 
prince of Wales knew little of the dastardly deeds of 
the suppliant. Don Pedro had brought with him his 
three young maiden daughters, whose helpless state 
appealed warmly to the generous knight. National 
policy accorded with the inclination of the prince, 



164 HISTORICAL TALES. 

for the Castilian revolution had been promoted by 
France, and the usurper bad been in the pay of the 
French king. These inducements were enough to 
win for Don Pedro the support of Edward III., and 
the aid of the Black Prince, who entered upon the 
enterprise with the passionate enthusiasm which 
was a part of his nature. 

Soon again two armies were in the field, that of 
King Henry, raised to defend his new dominions, 
and that of the Prince of Wales, gathered to replace 
the fugitive Don Pedro upon the throne. With the 
latter was the White Company, which had aided to 
drive Pedro from his seat and was now equally ready 
to replace him there. These bold lancers and arch- 
ers fought for their own hands, with little care whose 
cause they backed. 

It was through the valley of Eoncesvalles, that 
celebrated pass which was associated with the name 
of the famous Roland, the chief knight of French 
romance, that the army of the Black Prince made 
its way into Spain. Calverley, who was not willing 
to fight against his liege lord, joined him with his 
lances, King Henry generously consenting. Du 
Guesclin, a veteran in the art of war, advised the 
Castilian king to employ a Fabian policy, harassing 
the invaders by skirmishes, drawing them deep into 
the country, and wearing them out with fatigue and 
hunger. He frankly told him that his men could 
not face in a pitched battle the English veterans, led 
by such a soldier as the Black Prince. But the policy 
suggested would have been hazardous in Castile, di- 
vided as it was between two parties. Henry remem- 



PETER THE CRUEL AND THE FREE COMPANIES. 165 

bered that his rival had lost the kingdom through 
not daring to risk a battle, and he determined to 
fight for his throne, trusting his cause to Providence 
and the strength of his arms. 

It was in the month of April, 1367, that the two 
armies came face to face on a broad plain. They 
were fairly matched in numbers, and as day broke 
both marched resolutely to the encounter, amid 
opposing shouts of "King Henry for Castile" and 
" St. George and Guyenne." It was a hard, fierce, 
bitter struggle that followed, in which the onset of 
Du Guesclin was so impetuous as for a moment to 
break the English line. But the end was at hand 
when the Castilian cavalry broke in panic before the 
charge of an English squadron, which turned Du 
Guesclin's battalion and took it in flank. The Captal 
de Buch at the same time fell on the flank of the 
Castilian vanguard. Thus beset and surrounded, the 
French and Spanish men-at-arms desperately sought 
to hold their own against much superior numbers. 
King Henry fought valiantly, and called on all to 
rally round his standard. But at length the banner 
fell, the disorder grew general, the ranks broke, and 
knights and foot-soldiers joined in a tumultuous 
retreat. 

Their only hope now was the bridge of ISTajera, 
over the Najerilla, which stream lay behind their 
line. Some rushed for the bridge, others leaped into 
the river, which became instantly red with blood, 
for the arrows of the archers were poured into the 
crowded stream. Only the approach of night, the 
fatigue of the victors, and the temptation to plunder 



166 HISTORICAL TALES. 

the town and the camp saved the wreck of the Cas- 
tilian army, which had lost seven thousand foot- 
soldiers and some six hundred men-at-arms. Du 
Guesclin's battalion, which alone had made a gallant 
stand, was half slain. A large number of prisoners 
were taken, among them the valorous Du Guesclin 
himself. 

Edward the Black Prince now first learned the 
character of the man whom he had come to aid. 
Don Pedro galloped excitedly over the plain seeking 
his rival, and, chancing to meet Lopez de Orozco, 
one of his former friends, now the prisoner of a 
Gascon knight, he stabbed him to the heart, despite 
the efforts of the Gascon in his defence. The report 
of this murder filled the Black Prince with indigna- 
tion, which was heightened when Don Pedro offered 
to ransom all the Castilian prisoners, plainly indi- 
cating that he intended to murder them. Prince 
Edward sternly refused, only consenting to deliver 
up certain nobles who had been declared traitors 
before the revolution. These Don Pedro immedi- 
ately had beheaded before his tent. 

The breach between the allies rapidly widened, 
Don Pedro, as soon as he fairly got possession of the 
throne, breaking all his engagements with the Black 
Prince, while he was unable, from the empty state 
of his treasury, to pay the allied troops. Four 
months Prince Edward waited, with growing indig- 
nation, for redress, while disease was rapidly carry- 
ing off his men, and then marched in anger from 
Spain with scarcely a fifth of the proud array with 
which he had won the battle of Najera. 



PETER THE CRUEL AND THE FREE COMPANIES. 167 

The restored king soon justified his title of Peter 
the Cruel by a series of sanguinary executions, mur- 
dering all of the adherents of his rival on whom he 
could lay his hands. In this thirst for revenge not 
even women escaped, and at length he committed an 
act which aroused the indignation of the whole king- 
dom. Don Alfonso de Guzman had refused to follow 
the king into exile. He now kept out of his reach, 
but his mother, Dona Urraca de Osorio, fell into the 
hands of the monster, and was punished for being 
the mother of a rebel by being burned alive on the 
ramparts of Seville. 

These excesses of cruelty roused a rebelhous sen- 
timent throughout Castile, of which Henry, who 
had escaped to Aragon from the field of Najera, took 
advantage. Supplied with money by the king of 
France, he purchased arms and recruited soldiers, 
many of the French and Castilians who had been 
taken prisoners at Najera and been released on parole 
joining him in hopes of winning the means of paying 
their ransoms. Crossing the Ebro, he marched upon 
Calahorra, in which the year before he had been 
proclaimed king. Here numerous volunteers joined 
him, and at the head of a considerable force he 
marched upon Burgos, which surrendered after a 
faint show of resistance. 

During the winter the campaign continued, Leon, 
Madrid, and other towns being captured, and in the 
spring of 1368 all northern Castile was in Henry's 
hands. Don Pedro, whose army was small, had 
entered into alliance with the Moorish king of 
Granada, who sent him an army of thirty-five thou- 



168 HISTORICAL TALES. 

sand men, with which force a vigorous attack was 
made on the city of Cordova, — a holy city in the 
eyes of the Moors. Among its defenders was Don 
Alfonso de Guzman, whose mother had been burned 
to death. The defence was obstinate, but the Moors 
at length made breaches in the walls. They were 
about to pour into the city when the women, mad 
with fear, rushed into the streets with cries and 
moans, now reproaching the men-at-arms with cow- 
ardice, now begging them with sobs and tears to 
make a last effort to save the city from the brutal 
infidels. 

This appeal gave new courage to the Christians. 
They rushed on the Moors with the fury of despair, 
drove them from the posts they had taken, hurled 
them from the ramparts, tore down the black flags 
which already waved on the towers, and finally ex- 
pelled them from the breaches and the walls in a 
panic. The breaches were repaired and the city was 
saved. In a few days the Moors, thoroughly dis- 
heartened by their repulse, dispersed, and Don Pedro 
lost his allies. 

Meanwhile, Henry was engaged in the siege of 
Toledo, the strongest place in the kingdom, and be- 
fore which he persistently lay for months, despite 
all allurements to use his forces in other directions. 
Here Bertrand du Guesclin, who had been ransomed 
by the Black Prince, joined him with a force of 
some six hundred men-at-arms, all picked men ; and 
hither, in March, 1369, Don Pedro marched to the 
city's relief at the head of a strong army. 

Henry, on learning of this movement, at once 



PETER THE CRUEL AND THE FREE COMPANIES. 169 

gathered all the forces he could spare from the siege, 
three thousand men-at-arms in all, and hastened to 
intercept his rival on the march. Not dreaming of 
such a movement, Don Pedro had halted at Montiel, 
where his men lay dispersed, in search of food and 
forage, over a space of several leagues. They were 
attacked at daybreak, their surprise being so com- 
plete that the main body was at once put to flight, 
while each division was routed as soon as it appeared. 
Henry's forces suffered almost no loss, and within an 
hour's time his ris'al's kingdom was reduced to the 
castle of Montiel, in which he had taken refuge with 
a few of his followers. 

Leaving the defeated army to take care of itself, 
Henry devoted himself to the siege of the castle, 
within whose poorly fortified walls lay the prize for 
which he fought. Escape was impossible, and the 
small supply of provisions would soon be exhausted. 
Don Pedro's only hope was to bribe some of his foes. 
He sent an agent to Du G-uesclin, offering him a rich 
reward in gold and lands if he would aid in his es- 
cape. Du Guesclin asked for time to consider, and 
immediately informed Henry of the whole transac- 
tion. He was at once offered a richer reward than 
Pedro had promised if he would entice the king out 
of the castle, and after some hesitation and much 
persuasion he consented. 

On the night of March 23, ten days after the 
battle, Don Pedro, accompanied by several of his 
knights, secretly left the fortress, the feet of their 
horses being bound with cloth to deaden the sound 
of hoofs. The sentinels, who had been instructed 



170 HISTORICAL TALES. 

in advance, allowed them to pass, and they ap- 
proached the camp of the French adventurers, where 
Du Guesclin was waiting to receive them. 

*' To horse, Messire Bertrand," said the king, in a 
low voice ; " it is time to set out." 

No answer was returned. This silence frightened 
Don Pedro. He attempted to spring into his saddle, 
but he was surrounded, and a man-at-arms held the 
bridle of his horse. An officer asked him to wait in 
a neighboring tent. Resistance was impossible, and 
he silently obeyed. 

Here he found himself encompassed by a voiceless 
group, through whose lines, after a few minutes of 
dread suspense, a man in full armor advanced. It 
was Henry of Trastamara, who now faced his brother 
for the first time in fifteen years. He gazed 
with searching eyes upon Don Pedro and his fol- 
lowers. 

" Where is this bastard," he harshly asked, " this 
Jew who calls himself King of Castile ?" 

" There stands your enemy," said a French esquire, 
pointing to Don Pedro. 

Henry gazed at him fixedly. So many years had 
elapsed that he failed to recognize him easily. 

"Yes, it is I," exclaimed Don Pedro, "I, the King 
of Castile. All the world knows that I am the legit- 
imate son of good King Alfonso. It is thou that 
art the bastard." 

At this insult Henry drew his dagger and struck 
the speaker a light blow in the face. They were in 
too close a circle to draw their swords, and in mortal 
fury they seized each other by the waist and strug- 



PETER THE CRUEL AND THE FREE COMPANIES. 171 

gled furiously, the men around drawing back and no 
one attempting to interfere. 

After a brief period the wrestling brothers fell on 
a camp bed in a corner of the tent, Don Pedro, who 
was the stronger, being uppermost. While he felt 
desperately for a weapon with which to pierce his 
antagonist, one of those present seized him by the 
foot and threw him on one side, so that Henry found 
himself uppermost. Popular tradition says that it 
was Du Guesclin's hand that did this act, and that 
he cried, " I neither make nor unmake kings, but I 
serve my lord ;" but Froissart and others say it was 
the Yiscount de Eocaberti, of Aragon. 

However that be, Henry at once took advan- 
tage of the opportunity, picked up his dagger, lifted 
the king's coat of mail, and plunged the weapon 
again and again into his side. Only two of Don 
Pedro's companions sought to defend him, and they 
were killed on the spot. Henry had his brother's 
head at once cut off, and despatched the gruesome 
relic to Seville. 

Thus perished, by an uncalled-for act of treachery 
on the part of Du Guesclin, for the castle must soon 
have surrendered, one of the most bloodthirsty kings 
who ever sat upon a throne. Don Fadrique, his 
brother, and Blanche of Bourbon, his wife, both of 
whom he had basely murdered, were at length 
avenged. Henry ascended the throne as Henry II., 
and for years reigned over Castile with a mild and 
just rule that threw still deej^er horror upon the 
bloody career of him who is known in history as 
Peter the Cruel. 



THE GREAT CAPTAIN. 

The loDg and bitter war for the conquest of Gra- 
nada filled Spain with trained soldiers and skilful 
leaders, men who had seen service on a hundred 
fields, grim, daring veterans, without their equals in 
Europe. The Spanish foot-soldiers of that day were 
inflexibly resolute, the cavalry were skilled in the 
brilliant tactics of the Moors, and the leaders were 
men experienced in all the arts of war. These were 
the soldiers who in the New World overthrew empires 
with a handful of adventurers, and within a fraction 
of a century conquered a continent for Spain. In 
Europe they were kept actively employed. Charles 
VIII. of France, moved by ambition and thirst for 
glory, led an army of invasion into Italy. He was 
followed in this career of foreign conquest by his 
successor, Louis XII. The armies of France were 
opposed by those of Spain, led by the greatest sol- 
dier of the age, Gonsalvo de Cordova, a man who 
had learned the art of war in Granada, but in Italy 
showed such brilliant and remarkable powers that 
he gained the distinguishing title of the Great Cap- 
tain. 

These wars were stretched out over years, and the 

most we can do is to give some of their interesting 

incidents. In 1502 the Great Captain lay in the 

far south of Italy, faced by a more powerful French 

172 



THE GREAT CAPTAIN. 173 

army under the Duke of Nemours, a young noble- 
man not wanting in courage, but quite unfit to cope 
with the experienced veteran before him. Gonsalvo, 
however, was in no condition to try conclusions with 
his well-appointed enemy. His little corps was des- 
titute of proper supplies, the men had been so long 
unpaid that they were mutinous, he had pleaded for 
reinforcements in vain, and the most he could do was 
to concentrate his small force in the seaport of Bar- 
leta and the neighboring strongholds, and make the 
best show he could in the face of his powerful foe. 

The war now declined into foraging inroads on 
the part of the French, in which they swept the 
flocks and herds from the fertile pastures, and into 
guerilla operations on the part of the Spanish, who 
ambushed and sought to cut off the detached troops 
of the enemy. But more romantic encounters oc- 
casionally took place. The knights on both sides, 
full of the spirit of chivalry, and eager to prove their 
prowess, defied one another to jousts and tourneys, 
and for the time being brought back a state of war- 
fare then fast passing away. 

The most striking of these meetings arose from 
the contempt with which the French knights spoke 
of the cavalry of their enemy, which they declared to 
be far inferior to their own. This insult, when told 
to the proud knights of Gonsalvo's army, brought 
from them a challenge to the knights of France, 
and a warlike meeting between eleven Spanish and 
as many French warriors was arranged. A fair 
field was offered the combatants in the neutral terri- 
tory under the walls of the Yenetian city of Trani, 



174 HISTORICAL TALES. 

and on the appointed day a gallant array of well- 
armed knights of both parties appeared to guard the 
lists and maintain the honor of the tournament. 

Spectators crowded the roofs and battlements of 
Trani, while the lists were thronged with French and 
Spanish cavaliers, who for the time laid aside their 
enmity in favor of national honor and a fair fight. 
At the fixed hour the champions rode into the lists, 
armed at all points, and their horses richly capari- 
soned and covered with steel panoply. Among those 
on the Castilian side were Diego de Paredes and 
Diego de Yera, men who had won renown in the 
Moorish wars. Most conspicuous on the other side 
was the good knight Pierre de Bayard, the chevalier 
" sans peur et sans reproche,'' who was then entering 
upon his famous career. 

At the sound of the signal trumpets the hostile 
parties rushed to the encounter, meeting in the 
centre of the lists with a shock that hurled three of 
the Spaniards from their saddle, while four of their 
antagonists' horses were slain. The fight, which 
began at ten in the morning, and was to end at sun- 
set, if not concluded before, was prosecuted with 
great fury and varied success. Long before the 
hour of closing all the French were dismounted ex- 
cept the Chevalier Bayard and one of his compan- 
ions, their horses, at which the Spaniards had 
specially aimed, being disabled or slain. Seven of 
the Spaniards were still on horseback, and pressed 
so hard upon their antagonists that the victory 
seemed safely theirs. 

But Bayard and his comrade bravely held their 



THE GREAT CAPTAIN. 175 

own, while the others, intrenched behind their dead 
horses, defended themselves vigorously with sword 
and shield, the Spaniards vainly attempting to spur 
their terrified horses over the barrier. The fight 
went on in this way until the sun sank below the 
horizon, when, both parties still holding the field, 
neither was given the palm of victory, all the com- 
batants being declared to have proved themselves 
good and valiant knights. 

Both parties now met in the centre of the lists, 
where the combatants embraced as true companions 
in chivalry, "making good cheer together" before 
they separated. But the Great Captain did not re- 
ceive the report of the result with favor. 

" We have," said one of his knights, " disproved 
the taunts of the Frenchmen, and shown ourselves 
as good horsemen as they." 

"I sent you for better," Gonsalvo coldly re- 
pHed. 

A second combat in which the Chevalier Bayard 
was concerned met with a more tragic termination. 
A Spanish cavalier, Alonzo de Sotomayor, com- 
plained that Bayard had treated him uncourteously 
while holding him prisoner. Bayard denied the 
charge, and defied the Spaniard to prove it by force 
of arms, on horse or on foot, as he preferred. Soto- 
mayor, well knowing Bayard's skill as a horseman, 
challenged him to a battle on foot a Voutrancej or " to 
the death." 

At the appointed time the two combatants entered 
the lists, armed with sword and dagger and in com- 
plete armor, though wearing their visors up. For 



176 HISTORICAL TALES. 

a few minutes both knelt in silent prayer. They 
then rose, crossed themselves, and advanced to the 
combat, " the good knight Bayard," we are told, 
*' moving as light of step as if he were going to lead 
some fair lady down the dance." 

Bayard was the smaller man of the two, and still 
felt weakness from a fever which had recently pros- 
trated him. The Spaniard, taking advantage of this, 
sought to crush him by the weight of his blows, or 
to close with him and bring him to the ground by 
dint of his superior strength. But the lightness and 
agility of the French knight enabled him to avoid 
the Spaniard's grasp, while, by skill with the sword, 
he parried his enemy's strokes, and dealt him an 
occasional one in return. 

At length, the Spaniard having exposed himself 
to attack by an ill-directed blow. Bayard got in so 
sharp a thrust on the gorget that it gave way, and 
the point of the blade entered his throat. Maddened 
by the pain of the wound, Sotomayor leaped furi- 
ously on his antagonist and grasped him in his arms, 
both rolling on the ground together. While thus 
clasped in fierce struggle Bayard, who had kept his 
poniard in his left hand throughout the fight, while 
his enemy had left his in his belt, drove the steel 
home under his eye with such force that it pierced 
through his brain. 

As the victor sprang to his feet, the judges awarded 
him the honors of the day, and the minstrels began 
to pour forth triumphant strains in his honor. The 
good knight, however, bade them desist, as it was 
no time for gratulation when a good knight lay dead, 



THE GREAT CAPTAIN. 177 

and^ first kneeling and returning grateful thanks for 
his victory, he walked slowly from the lists, saying 
that he was sorry for the result of the combat, and 
wished, since his honor was saved, that his antago- 
nist had lived. 

In these passages at arms we discern the fading 
gleam of the spirit of mediaeval chivalry, soon to 
vanish before the new art of war. Bough and vio- 
lent as were these displays as compared with the 
pastimes of later days, the magnificence with which 
they were conducted, and the manifestations of 
knightly honor and courtesy which attended them, 
threw something of grace and softness over an age 
in which ferocity was the ruling spirit. 

Meanwhile, the position of the little garrison of 
Barleta grew daily worse. No help came, the 
French gradually occupied the strongholds of the 
neighboring country, and a French fleet in the Adri- 
atic stood seriously in the way of the arrival of stores 
and reinforcements. But the Great Captain main- 
tained his cheerfulness through all discouragement, 
and sought to infuse his spirit into the hearts of his 
followers. His condition would have been desperate 
with an able opponent, but he perfectly understood 
the character of the French commander and patiently 
bided his time. 

The opportunity came. The French, weary of the 
slow game of blockade, marched from their quarters 
and appeared before the walls of Barleta, bent on 
drawing the garrison from the "old den" and de- 
ciding the afi'air in a pitched battle. The Duke of 
Nemours sent a trumpet into the town to defy the 

12 



178 HISTORICAL TALES. 

Great Captain to the encounter, but the latter coolly 
sent back word, — 

"It is my custom to choose my own time and 
place for fighting, and I would thank the Due de 
Nemours to wait till my men have time to shoe their 
horses and burnish up their arms." 

The duke waited a few days, then, finding that he 
could not decoy his wily foe from the walls, broke 
camp and marched back, proud of having flaunted 
a challenge in the face of the enemy. He knew not 
Gonsalvo. The French had not gone far before the 
latter opened the gates and sent out his whole force 
of cavalry, under Diego de !Mendoza, with two corps 
of infantry, in rapid pursuit. Mendoza was so eager 
that he left the infantry in the rear, and fell on the 
French before they had got many miles away. 

A Uvely skirmish followed, though of short dura- 
tion, Mendoza quickly retiring, pursued by the 
French rear-guard, whose straggling march had de- 
tached it from the main body of the army. Men- 
doza' s feigned retreat soon brought him back to the 
infantry columns, which closed in on the enemy's 
flanks, while the flying cavalry wheeled in the rapid 
Moorish style and charged their pursuers boldly in 
front. All was now confusion in the French ranks. 
Some resisted, but the greater part, finding them- 
selves entrapped, sought to escape. In the end, 
nearly all who did not fall on the field were carried 
prisoners to Barleta, under whose walls Gonsalvo 
had drawn up his whole army, in readiness to sup- 
port Mendoza if necessary. The whole afl'air had 
passed so quickly that Nemours knew nothing of it 



THE GREAT CAPTAIN. 179 

until the bulk of his rear-guard were safely lodged 
within the walls of the Spanish stronghold. 

This brilliant success proved the turning-point in 
the tide of the war. A convoy of transports soon 
after reached Barleta, bringing in an abundance of 
provisions, and the Spaniards, restored in health 
and spirits, looked eagerly for some new enterprise. 
Nemours having incautiously set out on a distant 
expedition, Gonsalvo at once fell on the town or 
Ruvo and took it by storm, in spite of a most obsti- 
nate defence. On April 28, 1503, Gonsalvo, strength- 
ened by reinforcements, finally left the stronghold 
of Barleta, where he and his followers had suffered 
so severely and shown such indomitable constancy. 
Reaching Cerignola, about sixteen miles from Bar- 
leta, he awaited the advancing army of the French, 
rapidly intrenching the ground, which was well 
suited for defence. Before these works were com- 
pleted, Nemours and his army appeared, and, though 
it was near nightfall, made an immediate attack. 
The commander was incited to this by taunts on 
his courage from some hot-headed subordinates, to 
whom he weakly gave way, saying, " We will fight 
to-night, then ; and perhaps those who vaunt the 
loudest will be found to trust more to their spurs 
than to their swords," — a prediction which was to 
prove true. 

Of the battle, it must suffice to say that the 
trenches dug by the Spaniards fatally checked the 
French advance, and in the effort to find a passage 
Nemours fell mortally wounded. Soon the French 
lines were in confusion, the Spanish arquebusiers 



180 HISTORICAL TALES. 

pouring a galling fire into their dense masses. Per- 
ceiving the situation, Gonsalvo ordered a general 
advance, and, leaping their intrenchments, the Span- 
iards rushed in fury on their foes, most of whose 
leaders had fallen. Panic succeeded, and the flying 
French were cut down almost without resistance. 

The next morning the Great Captain passed over 
the field of battle, where, lay more than three thou- 
sand of the French, half their entire force. The 
loss of the Spaniards was very small, and all the ar- 
tillery, the baggage, and most of the colors of the 
enemy were in their hands. Earely had so complete 
a victory been gained in so brief a time, the battle 
being hardly more than one hour in duration. The 
body of the unfortunate Duke of Nemours was found 
under a heap of the slain, much disfigured and bear- 
ing the marks of three wounds. Gonsalvo was af- 
fected to tears at the sight of the mutilated body of 
his young and gallant adversary, who, though un- 
fitted to head an army, had always proved himself a 
valiant knight. During the following month Gon- 
salvo entered Naples, the main prize of the war, 
where he was received with acclamations of joy and 
given the triumph which his brilliant exploits so 
richly deserved. 

The work of the Great Captain was not yet at an 
end. Finding that his forces were being defeated in 
every encounter and the cities held by them captured, 
Louis XII. sent a large army to their relief, and late 
in the year 1503 the hostile forces came face to face 
again, Gonsalvo being forced by the exigencies of 
the campaign to encamp in a deplorable situation, a 



THE GREAT CAPTAIN. 181 

region of swamp, which had been converted by the 
incessant rains into a mere quagmire. The French 
occupied higher ground and were much more com- 
fortably situated. But Gonsalvo refused to move. 
He was playing his old waiting game, knowing that 
the French dared not attack his intrenched camp, 
and that time would work steadily in his favor. 

" It is indispensable to the public service to main- 
tain our present position," he said to the officers who 
appealed to him to move ; " and be assured, I would 
sooner march forward two steps, though it would 
bring me to my grave, than fall back one, to gain a 
hundred years of life." 

After that there were no more appeals. Gonsalvo's 
usual cheerfulness was maintained, infusing spirit 
into his men in all the inconveniences of their situ- 
ation. He had a well-planned object in view. The 
hardy Spaniards, long used to rough campaigning, 
bore their trying position with unyielding resolution. 
The French, on the contrary, largely new recruits, 
grew weary and mutinous, while sickness broke out 
in their ranks and increased with alarming rapidity. 

At length Gonsalvo's day came. His opponent, 
not dreaming of an attack, had extended his men 
over a wide space. On the night of December 28, 
in darkness and storm, the Spanish army broke 
camp, marched to the river that divided the forces, 
silently threw a bridge across the stream, and were 
soon on its opposite side. Here they fell like a 
thunderbolt on the unsuspecting and unprepared 
French, who were soon in disordered retreat, hotly 
pursued by their foes, their knights vainly attempting 



182 HISTORICAL TALES. 

to check the enemy. Bayard had three horses killed 
under him, and was barely rescued from death by a 
friend. So utterly were the French beaten that 
their discouraged garrisons gave up town after town 
without a blow, and that brilliant night's work not 
only ended the control of France over the kingdom 
of Naples, but filled Louis XII. with apprehension 
of losing all his possessions in Italy. 

Such were the most brilliant exploits of the man 
who well earned the proud title of the Great Captain. 
He was as generous in victory as vigorous in battle, 
and as courteous and genial with all he met as if he 
had been a courtier instead of a soldier. In the end, 
his striking and unbroken success in war aroused the 
envy and jealousy of King Ferdinand, and after the 
return of Gonsalvo to Spain the unjust monarch 
kept him in retirement till his death, putting smaller 
men at the head of his armies rather than permit the 
greatest soldier of the century to throw his own 
exploits more deeply into the shade. 



A KING IN CAPTIVITY. 

Two great rivals were on the thrones of France 
and Spain, — Francis I., who came to power in France 
in 1515, and Charles I., who became king of Spain in 
1516. In 1519 they were rivals for the imperial 
power in Germany. Charles gained the German 
throne, being afterwards known as the emperor 
Charles Y., and during the remainder of their reigns 
these rival monarchs were frequently at war. A 
league was formed against the French king by 
Charles V., Henry VIII. of England, and Pope Leo 
X., as a result of which the French were driven from 
the territory of Milan, in Italy. In 1524 they were 
defeated at the battle of Sesia, the famous Chevalier 
Bayard here falling with a mortal wound ; and in 
1525 they met with a more disastrous defeat at the 
battle of Pavia, whose fatal result to the French 
caused Francis to write to his mother, " Madame^ 
tout est perdu for s Vhonneuf ("All is lost but honor"). 

The reason for these words may be briefly given. 
Francis was besieging Pavia, with hopes of a speedy 
surrender, when the forces of Charles marched to 
its relief. The most experienced French generals 
advised the king to retire, but he refused. He had 
said he would take Pavia or perish in the attempt, 
and a romantic notion of honor held him fast. The 
result was ruinous, as may be expected where sen- 

183 



184 HISTORICAL TALES. 

timent outweighs prudence. Strongly as the French 
were intrenched, they were broken and put to rout, 
and soon there was no resistance except where the 
king obstinately continued to fight. 

Wounded in several places, and thrown from his 
horse, which was killed under him, Francis defended 
himself on foot with heroic valor, while the group 
of brave officers who sought to save his life, one 
after another, lost their own. At length, exhausted 
with his efforts, and barely able to wield his sword, 
the king was left almost alone, exposed to the fierce 
assault of some Spanish soldiers, who were enraged 
by his obstinacy and ignorant of his rank. 

At this moment a French gentleman named Pom- 
perant, who had entered the service of Spain, recog- 
nized the struggling king and hurried to his aid, 
helping to keep off the assailants, and begging him 
to surrender to the Duke of Bourbon, who was close 
at hand. Great as was the peril, Francis indignantly 
refused to surrender to a rebel and traitor, as he 
held Bourbon to be, and calling to Lannoy, a general 
in the imperial army who was also near by, he gave 
up his sword to him. Lannoy, recognizing his pris- 
oner, received the sword with a show of the deepest 
respect, and handed the king his own in return, 
saying,— 

" It does not become so great a monarch to remain 
disarmed in the presence of one of the emperor's 
subjects." 

The lack of prudence in Francis had proved se- 
rious not only to himself, but to his troops, ten 
thousand of whom fell, among them many distin- 



A KING IN CAPTIVITY. 185 

guished nobles who preferred death to dishonor. 
Numbers of high rank were taken prisoners, among 
them the king of Navarre. In two weeks not a 
Frenchman remained in Italy. The gains from 
years of war had vanished in a single battle. 

The tidings of the captivity of the French king 
filled France with consternation and Spain with de- 
light, while to all Europe it was an event of the 
deepest concern, for all the nations felt the danger 
that might arise from the ambition of the powerful 
emperor of Spain and Germany. Henry YIII. re- 
quested that Francis should be delivered to him, as 
an ally of Spain, though knowing well that such a 
demand would not gain a moment's consideration. 
As for Italy, it was in terror lest it should be over- 
run by the imperial armies. 

Francis, whom Lannoy held with great respect, 
but with the utmost care to prevent an escape, 
hoped much from the generosity of Charles, whose 
disposition he judged from his own. He was soon 
undeceived. Charles refused to set him free unless 
he would renounce all claims upon Italy, yield the 
provinces of Provence and Dauphine to form a 
kingdom for the Constable Bourbon, and give up 
Burgundy to Germany. On hearing these severe 
conditions, Francis, in a transport of rage, drew his 
dagger, exclaiming, — 

" It were better that a king should die thus !" 

A by-stander arrested the thrust; but, though 
Francis soon regained his composure, he declared 
that he would remain a prisoner for life rather than 
purchase liberty at such a price to his country. 



186 HISTORICAL TALES. 

Thinking that these conditions came from the 
Spanish council, and not from Charles himself, 
Francis now became anxious to visit the emperor in 
Spain, hoping to soften him in a personal interview. 
He even furnished the galleys for that purpose, 
Charles at that time being too poor to fit out a 
squadron, and soon the spectacle was seen of a cap- 
tive monarch sailing in his own ships past his own 
dominions, of which he had a distant and sorrowful 
view, to a land in which he was to suffer the indigni- 
ties of prison life. 

Landing at Barcelona, Francis was taken to 
Madrid and lodged in the alcazar, under the most 
vigilant guard. He soon found that he had been far 
too hasty in trusting to the generosity of his cap- 
tor. Charles, on learning of his captivity, had made 
a politic show of sympathy and feeling, but on get- 
ting his rival fully into his hands manifested a plain 
intention of forcing upon him the hardest bargain 
possible. Instead of treating his prisoner with the 
courtesy due from one monarch to another, he 
seemed to seek by rigorous usage to force from him 
a great ransom. 

The captive king was confined in an old castle, 
under a keeper of such formal austerity of manners 
as added to the disgust of the high-spirited French 
monarch. The only exercise allowed him was to 
ride on a mule, surrounded by armed guards on 
horseback. Though Francis pressingly solicited an 
interview, Charles suffered several weeks to pass 
before going near him. These indignities made so 
deep an impression on the prisoner that his natural 



A. KING IN CAPTIVITY. 187 

lightness of temper deserted him, and after a period 
of deep depression he fell into a dangerous fever, in 
which he bitterly complained of the harshness with 
which he had been treated, and said that the em- 
peror would now have the satisfaction of having his 
captive die on his hands. 

The physicians at length despaired of his life, and 
informed Charles that they saw no hope of his re- 
covery unless he was granted the interview he so 
deeply desired. This news put the emperor into a 
quandary. If Francis should die, all the advantage 
gained from the battle of Pavia would be lost. And 
there were clouds in the sky elsewhere. Henry 
VIII. had concluded a treaty of alliance with Queen 
Louise, regent of France, and engaged to use all his 
efforts for the release of the king. In Italy a dan- 
gerous conspiracy had been detected. There was 
danger of a general European confederacy against 
him unless he should come to some speedy agree- 
ment with the captive king. 

Charles, moved by these various considerations, at 
length visited Francis, and, with a show of respect 
and affection, gave him such promises of speedy re- 
lease and princely treatment as greatly cheered the 
sad heart of the captive. The interview was short ; 
Francis was too ill to bear a long one ; but its effect 
was excellent, and the sick man at once began to 
recover, soon regaining his former health. Hope 
had proved a medicine far superior to all the drugs 
of the doctors. 

But the obdurate captor had said more than he 
meant. Francis was kept as closely confined as ever. 



188 HISTORICAL TALES. 

And insult was added to indignity by the emperor's 
reception of the Constable Bourbon, a traitorous sub- 
ject of France, whom Charles received with the 
highest honors which a monarch could show his 
noblest visitor, and whom he made his general-in- 
chief in Italy. This act had a most serious result, 
which may here be briefly described. In 1527 Bour- 
bon made an assault on Home, with an army largely 
composed of Lutherans from Germany, and took it 
by assault, he being killed on the walls. There fol- 
lowed a sack of the great city which had not been 
surpassed in brutality by the Yandals themselves, 
and for months Eome lay in the hands of a barbarous 
soldiery, who plundered and destroyed without stint 
or mercy. 

What Charles mainly insisted upon and Francis 
most indignantly refused was the cession of Bur- 
gundy to the German empire. He was willing to 
yield on all other points, but bitterly refused to dis- 
member his kingdom. He would yield all claim to 
territory in Italy and the Netherlands, would pay a 
large sum in ransom, and would make other conces- 
sions, but Burgundy was part of France, and Bur- 
gundy he would not give up. 

In the end Francis, in deep despair, took steps to- 
wards resigning his crown to his son, the dauphin. 
A plot for his escape was also formed, which filled 
Charles with the fear that a second effort might suc- 
ceed. In dread that, through seeking too much, he 
might lose all, he finally agreed upon a compromise 
in regard to Burgundy, Francis consenting to yield 
it, but not until after he was set at liberty. The 



A KING IN CAPTIVITY. 189 

treaty included many other articles, most of them 
severe and rigorous, while Francis agreed to leave 
his sons, the dauphin and the Duke of Orleans, in the 
emperor's hands as hostages for the fulfilment of the 
treaty. This treaty was signed at Madrid, January 
14, 1526. By it Charles believed that he had effect- 
ually humbled his rival, and weakened him so that 
he could never regain any great power. In this the 
statesmen of the day did not agree with him, as they 
were not ready to believe that the king of France 
would live up to conditions of such severity, forced 
from him under constraint. 

The treaty signed, the two monarchs seemed to 
become at once the best of friends. They often ap- 
peared together in public; they had long confer- 
ences in private ; they travelled in the same litter 
and joined in the same amusements ; the highest 
confidence and affection seemed to exist between 
them. Yet this love was all a false show, — Francis 
still distrusted the emperor, and Charles still had 
him watched like a prisoner. 

In about a month the ratification of the treaty 
was brought from France, and Francis set out from 
Madrid with the first true emotions of joy which he 
had felt for a year. He was escorted by a body of 
horse under Alarcon, who, when the frontiers of 
France were reached, guarded him as scrupulously 
as ever. On arriving at the banks of the Andaye 
River, which there separated the two kingdoms, 
Lautrec appeared on the opposite bank, with a guard 
of horse equal to that of Alarcon. An empty bark 
was moored in mid-stream. The cavalry drew up 



190 HISTORICAL TALES. 

in order on each bank. Lannoy, with eight gentle- 
men and the king, put off in a boat from the Spanish 
side of the stream. Lautrec did the same from the 
French side, bringing with him the dauphin and the 
Duke of Orleans. The two parties met in the empty- 
vessel, where in a moment the exchange was made, 
Francis embracing his sons and then handing them 
over as hostages. Leaping into Lautrec's boat, he 
was quickly on the soil of France. 

Mounting a Barbary horse which awaited him, 
the freed captive waved his hand triumphantly over 
his head, shouted joyfully several times, " I am yet 
a king!" and galloped away at full speed for Ba- 
yonne. He had been held in captivity for a year 
and twenty-two days. 

Our tale of the captivity of the king ends here, 
but the consequences of that captivity must be told. 
A league was immediately afterwards formed against 
Charles, named the Holy League, from the Pope be- 
ing at its head. The Pope absolved Francis from 
his oath to keep the treaty of Madrid, and the no- 
bles of Burgundy, secretly instigated, refused to be 
handed over to the imperial realm. Francis, be- 
wailing his lack of power to do what he had promised 
in regard to Burgundy, offered to pay the emperor 
two millions of crowns instead. In short, Charles 
had overreached himself through his stringency to a 
captive rival, and lost all through his eagerness to 
obtain too much. 

Ten years afterwards the relations between the 
two monarchs were in a measure reversed. A re- 
bellion had broken out in Flanders which needed 



A KING IN CAPTIVITY. 191 

the immediate presence of Charles, and, for reasons 
satisfactory to himself, he wished to go through 
France. His counsellors at Madrid looked upon such 
a movement as fatally rash ; but Charles persisted, 
feeling that he knew the character of Francis better 
than they. The French king was ready enough to 
grant the permission asked, and looked upon the 
occasion as an opportunity to show his rival how 
kings should deal with their royal neighbors. 

Charles was received with an ostentatious wel- 
come, each town entertaining him with all the mag- 
nificence it could display. He was presented with 
the keys of the gates, the prisoners were set at 
liberty, and he was shown all the honor due to the 
sovereign of the country itself. The emperor, though 
impatient to continue his journey, remained six days 
in Paris, where all things possible were done to ren- 
der his visit a pleasant one. Had Francis listened 
to the advice of some of his ministers, he would 
have seized and held prisoner the incautious monarch 
who had so long kept him in captivity. But the 
confidence of the emperor was not misplaced ; no 
consideration could induce the high-minded French 
king to violate his plighted word, or make him be- 
lieve that Charles would fail to carry out certain 
promises he had made. He forgot for the time how 
he had dealt with his own compacts, but Charles re- 
membered, and was no sooner out of France than all 
his promises faded from his mind, and Francis learne(f 
that he was not the only king who could enter into 
engagements which he had no intention to fulfil. 



THE INVASION OF AFRICA. 

As Italy was invaded by Gonsalvo de Cordova, 
the Great Captain, so Africa was invaded by Cardi- 
nal Ximenes, the Great Churchman, one of the ablest 
men who ever appeared in Spain, despite the fact 
that he made a dreadful bonfire of thousands of 
Arabian manuscripts in the great square of Gra- 
nada. The greater part of these were copies of the 
Koran, but many of them were of high scientific 
and literary value, and impossible to replace. Yet, 
while thus engaged in a work fitted for an un- 
lettered barbarian, Ximenes was using his large 
revenues to found the University of Alcala, the 
greatest educational institution in Spain, and was 
preparing his famous polyglot Bible, for which the 
rarest manuscripts were purchased, without regard 
to cost, that the Scriptures might be shown at one 
view in their various ancient languages. To indicate 
the cost of this work, it is said that he paid four 
thousand golden crowns for seven manuscripts, which 
came too late to be of use in the work. Such are 
the results that appear when fanaticism and desire 
for progress are combined. 

• The vast labors undertaken by Ximenes at home 

did not keep him from enterprises abroad. He was 

filled with a burning zeal for the propagation of the 

Catholic faith, formed plans for a crusade to the 

192 



THE INVASION OF AFRICA. 193 

Holy Land, and organized a remarkably successful 
expedition against the Moslenis of Africa. It is of 
the latter that we desire to speak. 

Soon after the death of Isabella, Mazalquivir, a 
nest of pirates on the Barbary coast, had been cap- 
tured by an expedition organized by the energetic 
Ximenes. He quickly set in train a more difficult 
enterprise, one directed against Oran, a Moorish city 
of twenty thousand inhabitants, strongly fortified, 
with a large commerce, and the haunt of a swarm 
of piratical cruisers. The Spanish king had no 
money and little heart for this enterprise, but that 
did not check the enthusiastic cardinal, who offered 
to loan all the sums needed, and to take full 
charge of the expedition, leading it himself, if 
the king pleased. Ferdinand made no objection 
to this, being quite willing to make conquests at 
some one else's expense, and the cardinal set to 
work. 

It is not often that an individual can equip an 
army, but Ximenes had a great income of his own 
and had the resources of the Church at his back. 
By the close of the spring of 1509 he had made ready 
a fleet of ten galleys and eighty smaller vessels, and 
assembled an army of four thousand horse and ten 
thousand foot, fully supplied with provisions and 
militar}^ stores for a four months' campaign. Such 
was the energy and activity of a man whose life, 
until a few years before, had been spent in the soli- 
tude of the cloister and in the quiet practices of re- 
ligion, and who was now an infirm invalid of more 
than seventy years of age. 

13 



194 HISTORICAL TALES. 

The nobles thwarted his plans, and mocked at the 
idea of " a monk fighting the battles of Spain." The 
soldiers had little taste for fighting under a father 
of the Church, " while the Great Captain was left to 
stay at home and count his beads like a hermit." 
The king threw cold water on the enterprise. But 
the spirit and enthusiasm of the old monk triumphed 
over them all, and on the 16th of May the fleet 
weighed anchor, reaching the port of Mazalquivir 
on the following day. Oran, the goal of the expe- 
dition, lay about a league away. 

As soon as the army was landed and drawn up in 
line, Ximenes mounted his mule and rode along its 
front, dressed in his priestly robes, but with a sword 
by his side. A group of friars followed, also with 
monkish garbs and weapons of war. The cardinal, 
ascending a rising ground, made an animated address 
to the soldiers, rousing their indignation by speaking 
of the devastation of the coast of Spain by the Mos- 
lems, and awakening their cupidity by dwelling on 
the golden spoil to be found in the rich city of Oran. 
He concluded by saying that he had come to peril 
his own life in the service of the cross and lead them 
in person to battle. 

The officers now crowded around the warlike old 
monk and earnestly begged him not to expose his 
sacred person to the hazards of the fight, saying that 
his presence would do more harm than good, as the 
men might be distracted from the work before them 
by attending to his personal safety. This last argu- 
ment moved the warHke cardinal, who, with much 
reluctance, consented to keep in the rear and leave 



THE INVASION OF AFRICA. 195 

the command of the army to its military leader, 
Count Pedro Navarro. 

The day was now far advanced. Beacon-fires on 
the hill-tops showed that the country was in alarm. 
Dark groups of Moorish soldiers could be seen on 
the summit of the ridge that lay between Oran and 
Mazalquivir, and which it would be necessary to take 
before the city could be reached. The men were 
weary with the labors of landing, and needed rest 
and refreshment, and Navarro deemed it unsafe to 
attempt anything more that day ; but the energetic 
prelate bade him "to go forward in God's name," 
and orders to advance were at once given. 

Silently the Spanish troops began to ascend the 
steep sides of the acclivity. Fortunately for them, 
a dense mist had arisen, which rolled down the skirts 
of the hills and filled the valley through which they 
moved. As soon as they left its cover and were re- 
vealed to the Moors a shower of balls and arrows 
greeted them, followed by a desperate charge down 
the hill. But the Spanish infantry, with their deep 
ranks and long pikes, moved on unbroken by the as- 
sault, while Navarro opened with a battery of heavy 
guns on the flank of the enemy. 

Thrown into disorder by the deadly volleys, the 
Moors began to give ground, and, pressed upon 
heavily by the Spanish spearsmen, soon broke into 
flight. The Spaniards hotly pursued, breaking rank 
in their eagerness in a way that might have proved 
fatal but for the panic of the Moors, who had lost 
all sense of discipline. The hill-top was reached, and 
down its opposite slope poured the Spaniards, driving 



196 HISTORICAL TALES. 

the fleeing Moors. !N"ot far before them rose the 
walls of Oran. The fleet had anchored before the 
city and was vigorously cannonading it, being an- 
swered with equal spirit by sixty pieces of artillery 
on the fortifications. Such were the excitement and 
enthusiasm of the soldiers that they forgot weariness 
and disregarded obstacles. In swift pursuit they 
followed the scattering Moors, and in a brief time 
were close to the walls, defended by a deeply dis- 
couraged garrison. 

The Spaniards had brought few ladders, but in the 
intense excitement and energy of the moment no 
obstacle deterred them. Planting their long pikes 
against the walls, or thrusting them into the crevices 
between the stones, they clambered up with remark- 
able dexterity, — a feat which they were utterly un- 
able to repeat the next day, when they tried it in 
cold blood. 

A weak defence was made, and the ramparts soon 
swarmed with Spanish soldiers. Sousa, the captain 
of the cardinal's guard, was the first to gain the 
summit, where he unfurled the banner of Ximenes, 
' — the cross on one side and the cardinal's arms on 
the other. Six other banners soon floated from the 
walls, and the soldiers, leaping down into the streets, 
gained and threw open the gates. In streamed the 
army, sweeping all opposition before it. Resistance 
and flight were alike unavailing. Houses and 
mosques were tumultuously entered, no mercy being 
shown, no regard for age or sex, the soldiers aban- 
doning themselves to the brutal license and ferocity 
common to the religious wars of that epoch. 



THE INVASION OF AFRICA. 197 

In vain ]N"avarro sought to check his brutal troops ; 
they were beyond control ; the butchery never 
ceased until, gorged with the food and wine found 
in the houses, the worn-out soldiers flung themselves 
down in the streets and squares to sleep. Four 
thousand Moors had been slain in the brief assault, 
and perhaps twice that number were taken prisoners. 
The city of Oran, that morning an opulent and 
prosperous community, was at night a ruined and 
captive city, with its ferocious conquerors sleeping 
amidst their slaughtered victims. 

It was an almost incredible victory, considering 
the rapidity with which it had been achieved. On 
the morning of the 16th the fleet of transports had 
set sail from Spain. On the night of the 17th the 
object of the expedition was fully accomplished, the 
army being in complete possession of Oran, a 
strongly manned and fortified city, taken almost 
without loss. Ximenes, to whose warlike enthusiasm 
this remarkable victory was wholly due, embarked 
in his galley the next morning and sailed along the 
city's margin, his soul swelling with satisfaction at 
his wonderful success. On landing, the army hailed 
him as the true victor of Oran, a wave of acclama- 
tions following him as he advanced to the alcazar, 
where the keys of the fortress were put into his 
hands. A few hours after the surrender of the 
city a powerful reinforcement arrived for its relief, 
but on learning of its loss the disconcerted Moors 
retired. Had the attack been deferred to the next 
day, as Navarro proposed, it would probably have 
failed. The people of Spain ascribed the victory to 



198 HISTORICAL TALES. 

inspiration from heaven ; but the only inspiration 
lay in the impetuous energy and enthusiasm of the 
cardinal. But the Spaniards of that day were 
rarely satisfied without their miracle, and it is so- 
berly asserted that the sun stood still for several 
hours while the action went on, Heaven repeating 
the miracle of Joshua, and halting the solar orb in 
its career, that more of the heathen might be 
slaughtered. The greatest miracle of all would ap- 
pear to be that the sun stood still nowhere else than 
over the fated city of Oran. 

It may not be amiss to add to this narrative an 
account of a second expedition against Africa, made 
by Charles Y. some thirty years later, in which 
Heaven failed to come to the aid of Spain, and 
whose termination was as disastrous as that of the 
expedition of Ximenes had been fortunate. 

It was the city of Algiers that Charles set out to 
reduce, and, though the season was late and it was 
the time of the violent autumnal winds, he persisted 
in his purpose in spite of the advice of experienced 
mariners. The expedition consisted of twenty 
thousand foot and two thousand horse, with a large 
body of noble volunteers. The storms came as 
promised and gave the army no small trouble in its 
voyage, but at length, with much difficulty and 
danger, the troops were landed on the coast near 
Algiers and advanced at once upon the town. 

Hascan, the Moorish leader, had only about six 
thousand men to oppose to the large Spanish army, 
and had little hope of a successful resistance by 
force of arms. But in this case Heaven — if we ad- 



THE INVASION OF AFRICA. 199 

mit its interference at all — came to the aid of the 
Moors. On the second day after landing, and before 
operations had fairly begun, the clouds gathered 
and the skies grew threatening. Towards evening 
rain began to fall and a fierce wind arose. Dur- 
ing the night a violent tempest swept the camp, and 
the soldiers, who were without tents or shelter of 
any kind, were soon in a deplorable state. Their 
camp, which was in a low situation, was quickly 
overflowed by the pouring rains, and the ground be- 
came ankle deep in mud. No one could lie down, 
while the wind blew so furiously that they could 
only stand by thrusting their spears into the ground 
and clinging to them. About day-dawn they were 
attacked by the vigilant Hascan, and a considerable 
number of them killed before the enemy was forced 
to retire. 

Bad as the night had been, the day proved more 
disastrous still. The tempest continued, its force in- 
creasing, and the sea, roused to its utmost fury by 
the winds, made sad havoc of the ships. They were 
torn from their anchorage, flung violently together, 
beat to pieces on the rocks, and driven ashore, while 
many sank bodily in the waves. In less than an 
hour fifteen war-vessels and a hundred and forty 
transports were wrecked and eight thousand men 
had perished, those of the crews who reached shore 
being murdered by the Moors as soon as they 
touched land. 

It was with anguish and astoundment that the 
emperor witnessed this wreck of all his hopes, the 
great stores which he had collected for subsistence 



200 HISTORICAL TALES. 

and military purposes being in one fatal hour 
buried in the depths of the sea. At length the 
wind began to fall, and some hopes arose that ves- 
sels enough might have escaped to carry the dis- 
tressed army back to Europe. But darkness was 
again at hand, and a second night of suspense and 
misery was passed. In the morning a boat reached 
land with a messenger from Andrew Doria, the ad- 
miral of the fleet, who sent word that in fifty years 
of maritime life he had never seen so frightful a 
storm, and that he had been forced to bear away with 
his shattered ships to Cape ^letafuz, whither he ad- 
vised the emperor to march with all speed, as the 
skies were still threatening and the tempest might 
be renewed. 

The emperor was now in a fearful quandary. 
Metafuz was at least three days' march away. All 
the food that had been brought ashore was con- 
sumed. The soldiers, worn out with fatigue, were 
in no condition for such a journey. Yet it was im- 
possible to stay where they were. There was no 
need of deliberation ; no choice was left ; their only 
hope of safety lay in instant movement. 

The sick, wounded, and feeble were placed in the 
centre, the stronger in front and rear, and the dis- 
astrous march began. Some of the men could hardly 
bear the weight of their arms ; others, worn out 
with toiling through the nearly impassable roads, 
lay down and died ; many perished from hunger and 
exhaustion, there being no food but roots and berries 
gathered by the way and the flesh of horses killed 
by the emperor's order ; many were drowned in the 



THE INVASION OF AFRICA. 201 

streams, swollen by the severe rains ; many were 
killed by the enemy, who followed and harassed 
them throughout the march. The late gallant army 
was a bedraggled and miserable fragment when the 
survivors at length reached Metafuz. Fortunately 
the storm was at an end, and they were able to ob- 
tain from the ships the provisions of which they 
stood so sorely in need. 

The calamities which attended this unluckly ex- 
pedition were not yet at an end. No sooner had the 
soldiers embarked than a new storm arose, less vio- 
lent than the former, but sufficient to scatter the 
ships to right and left, some making port in Spain, 
some in Italy, all seeking such harbors of refuge as 
they could find. The emperor, after passing through 
great perils, was driven to the port of Bugia in 
Africa, where contrary winds held him prisoner for 
several weeks. He at length reached Spain, to find 
the whole land in dismay at the fate of the gallant 
expedition, which had set out with such high hopes 
of success. To the end of his reign Charles Y. had 
no further aspirations for conquest in Africa. 



AN EMPEROR RETIRED FROM 
BUSINESS. 

In October of the year 1555 a strange procession 
passed through a rugged and hilly region of Spain. 
At its head rode an alcalde with a posse of alguazils. 
Next came a gouty old man in a horse-litter, like a 
prisoner in the hands of a convoy of officers of 
justice. A body of horsemen followed, and in the 
rear toiled onward a long file of baggage-mules. 

As the train advanced into the more settled re- 
gions of the country it became evident that the per- 
sonage thus convoyed was not a prisoner, but a 
person of the highest consequence. On each side 
of the road the people assembled to see him pass, 
with a show of deep respect. At the towns along 
the route the great lords of the neighborhood gath- 
ered in his honor, and in the cities the traveller was 
greeted by respectful deputations of officials. When 
Burgos was approached the great constable of Cas- 
tile, with a strong retinue of attendants, came to 
meet him, and when he passed through the illumi- 
nated streets of that city the bells rang out in merry 
peals, while enthusiastic people filled the streets. 

It was not a prisoner to the law, but a captive to 
gout, who thus passed in slow procession through 
the lands and cities of Spain. It was the royal 
202 



AN EMPEROR RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 203 

Charles, King of Spain and the Netherlands, Em- 
peror of Germany, and magnate of America, at that 
time the greatest monarch in Europe, lord of a realm 
greater than that of Charlemagne, who made his 
way with this small following and in this simple 
manner through the heart of his Spanish dominions. 
He had done what few kings have done before or 
since, voluntarily thrown off his crown in the height 
of his power, — weary of reigning, surfeited with 
greatness, — and retired to spend the remainder of 
his life in privacy, to dwell far from the pomp of 
courts in a simple community of monks. 

The next principal halting-place of the retired 
monarch was the city of Valladolid, once the capital 
of the kingdom and still a rich and splendid place, 
adorned with stately public buildings and the palaces 
of great nobles. Here he remained for some time 
resting from his journey, his house thronged with 
visitors of distinction. Among these, one day, came 
the court fool. Charles touched his cap to him. 

" Welcome, brother," said the jester ; " do you raise 
your hat to me because you are no longer emperor?" 

" No," answered Charles, " but because this sorry 
courtesy is all I have left to give you." 

On quitting Valladolid Charles seemed to turn his 
back finally on the world, with all its pomps and 
vanities. Before leaving he took his last dinner in 
public, and bade an affectionate farewell to his sisters, 
his daughter, and his grandson, who had accom- 
panied him thus far in his journey. A large train 
of nobles and cavaliers rode with him to the gates 
of the city, where he courteously dismissed them, 



204 HISTORICAL TALES. 

and moved onward attended only by his simple 
train. 

"Heaven be praised!" said the world-weary mon- 
arch, as he came nearer his place of retreat ; " after 
this no more visits of ceremony, no more receptions !" 

But he was not yet rid of show and ostentation. 
Spending the night at Medina del Campo, at the 
house of a rich banker named Rodrigo de Duenas, 
the latter, by way of display, warmed the emperor's 
room with a brazier of pure gold, in which, in place 
of common fuel, sticks of cinnamon were burned. 
iNeither the perfume nor the ostentation was agree- 
able to Charles, and on leaving the next morning he 
punished his over-officious host by refusing to permit 
him to kiss his hand, and by causing him to be paid 
for the night's lodging like a common inn-keeper. 

This was not the first time that cinnamon had 
been burned in the emperor's chamber. The same 
was done by the Fuggers, the famous bankers of 
Germany, who had loaned Charles large sums for 
his expedition against Tunis, and entertained him at 
their house on his return. In this case the emperor 
was not oifended by the odor of cinnamon, since it 
was modified by a different and more agreeable per- 
fume. The bankers, grateful to Charles for breaking 
up a pestilent nest of Barbary pirates, threw the 
receipts for the money they had loaned him into the 
fire, turning their gold into ashes in his behalf This 
was a grateful sacrifice to the emperor, whose war- 
like enterprises consumed more money than he could 
readily command. 

The vicinity of Yuste was reached late in Novem- 



o 



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AN EMPEROR RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 205 

ber. Here resided a community of Jeromymite 
monks, in whose monastery he proposed to pass the 
remainder of his days. There were two roads by 
which it could be reached, — one an easy, winding 
highway, the other a rugged mountain-pass. But 
by the latter four days would be saved, and Charles, 
tired of the long journey, determined to take it, 
diflScult as it might prove. 

He had been warned against the mountain path- 
way, and found it fully as formidable as he had been 
told. A body of hardy rustics were sent ahead, 
with pikes, shovels, and other implements, to clear 
the way. But it was choked here and there with 
fallen stones and trunks of trees which they were 
unable to move. In some localities the path wound 
round dizzy precipices, where a false step would have 
been fatal. To any traveller it would have been very 
difficult ; to the helpless emperor it was frightfully 
dangerous. The peasants carried the litter ; in bad 
parts of the way the emperor was transferred to his 
chair ; in very perilous places the vigorous peasants 
carried him in their arms. 

Several hours of this hard toil passed before they 
reached the summit. As they emerged from the 
dark defiles of the Puerto Nuevo — now known as 
" The Emperor's Pass" — Charles exclaimed, " It is the 
last pass I shall go through in this world, save that 
of death." 

The descent was much more easy, and soon the 
gray walls of Yuste, half hidden in chestnut-groves, 
came in sight. Yet it was three months before the 
traveller reached there, for the apartments preparing 



206 HISTORICAL TALES. 

for him were far from ready, and he had to wait 
throughout the winter in the vicinity, in a castle of 
the Count of Oropesa, and in the midst of an almost 
continual downpour of rain, which turned the roads 
to mire, the country almost to a swamp, and the 
mountains to vapor-heaps. The threshold of his 
new home was far from an agreeable one. 

Charles Y. had long contemplated the step he had 
thus taken. He was only fifty-five years of age, 
but he had become an old man at fifty, and was such 
a victim to the gout as to render his life a constant 
torment and the duties of royalty too heavy to be 
borne. So, taking a resolution which few monarchs 
have taken before or since, he gave up his power and 
resolved to spend the remainder of bis life in such 
quiet and peace as a retired monastery would give. 
Spain and its subject lands he transferred to his son 
Philip, Avho was to gain both fame and infamy as 
Philip II. He did his best, also, to transfer the im- 
perial crown of Germany to his fanatical and heart- 
less heir, but his brother Ferdinand, who was in 
power there, would not consent, and he was obliged 
to make Ferdinand emperor of Germany, and 
break in two the vast dominion which he had con- 
trolled. 

Charles had only himself to thank for his gout. 
Like many a man in humbler life, he had abused the 
laws of nature until they had avenged themselves 
upon him. The pleasures of the table with him far 
surpassed those of intellectual or business pursuits. 
He had an extraordinary appetite, equal to that of 
any royal gourmand of whom history speaks, and, 



AN EMPEROR RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 207 

while leaving his power behind him, he brought this 
enemy with him into his retirement. 

We are told by a Venetian envoy at his court, in 
the latter part of his reign, that, while still in bed 
in the morning, he was served with potted capon, 
prepared with sugar, milk, and spices, and then went 
to sleep again. At noon a meal of various dishes 
was served him, and another after vespers. In the 
evening he supped heartily on anchovies, of which 
he was particularly fond, or some other gross and 
savory food. His cooks were often at their wits' 
end to devise some new dish, rich and highly sea- 
soned enough to satisfy his appetite, and his per- 
plexed purveyor one day, knowing Charles's passion 
for timepieces, told him " that he really did not know 
what new dish he could prepare him, unless it were 
Q> fricassee of watches." 

Charles drank as heartily as he ate. His huge 
repasts were washed down with potations propor- 
tionately large. Iced beer was a favorite beverage, 
with which he began on rising and kept up during 
the day. By way of a stronger potation, Rhenish 
wine was much to his taste. Roger Ascham, who 
saw him on St. Andrew's day dining at the feast of 
the Golden Fleece, tells us : " He drank the best that 
I ever saw. He had his head in the glass five times 
as long as any of us, and never drank less than a 
good quart at once of Rhenish." 

It was this over-indulgence in the pleasures of the 
table that brought the emperor to Yuste. His phy- 
sician warned him in vain. His confessor wasted 
admonitions on his besetting sin. Sickness and suf- 



208 HISTORICAL TALES. 

fering vainly gave him warning to desist. Indiges- 
tion troubled him; bilious disorders brought misery 
to his overworked stomach. At length came gout, 
the most terrible of his foes. This enemy gave him 
little rest day or night. The man who had hunted 
in the mountains for days without fatigue, who had 
kept the saddle day and night in his campaigns, who 
had held his own in the lists with the best knights 
of Europe, was now a miserable cripple, carried, 
wherever he went, in the litter of an invalid. 

One would have thought that, in his monkish re- 
treat, Charles would cease to indulge in gastronomic 
excesses, but the retired emperor, with little else to 
think of, gave as much attention to his appetite as 
ever. Yuste was kept in constant communication 
with the rest of the world on matters connected with 
the emperor's table. He was especially fond of fish 
and all the progeny of the water, — eels, frogs, oys- 
ters, and the like. The trout of the neighborhood 
were too small for his liking, so he had larger ones 
sent from a distance. Potted fish — anchovies in par- 
ticular — were favorite viands. Eel pasty appealed 
strongly to his taste. Soles, lampreys, flounders 
reached his kitchen from Seville and Portugal. The 
country around supplied pork, mutton, and game. 
Sausages were sent him from a distance ; olives were 
brought from afar, as those near at hand were not 
to his liking. Presents of sweetmeats and confec- 
tionery were sent him by ladies who remembered 
his ancient tastes. In truth, Charles, tortured with 
gout, did everything he well could to favor its at- 
tacks. 



AN EMPEROR RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 209 

The retired emperor, though he made a monastery 
his abode, had no idea of living like a monk. His 
apartments were richly furnished and hung with 
handsome tapestry, and every attention was paid to 
his personal comfort. Eich carpets, canopies of vel- 
vet, sofas and chairs of carved walnut, seats ampl}' 
garnished with cushions for the ease of his tender 
joints, gave a luxurious aspect to his retirement. 
His wardrobe contained no less than sixteen robes 
of silk and velvet, lined with ermine, eider-down, or 
the soft hair of the Barbary goat. He could not 
endure cold weather, and had fireplaces and chim- 
neys constructed in every room, usually keeping his 
apartments almost at furnace heat, much to the dis- 
comfort of his household. With all this, and his 
wrappings of fur and eider-down, he would often be 
in a shiver and complain that he was chilled to the 
bone. 

His table was richly provided with plate, its ser- 
vice being of silver, as were also the articles of the 
toilet, the basins, pitchers, and other utensils of his 
bed-chamber. With these were articles of pure gold, 
valuable for their curious workmanship. He had 
brought with him many jewels of value, and a small 
but choice collection of paintings, some of them 
among the noblest masterpieces of art. Among 
them were eight gems from the hand of Titian. 
These were hung in rich frames around his rooms. 
He was no reader, and had brought few books, his 
whole library comprising but thirty-one volumes, 
and these mostly religious works, such as psalters, 
missals, breviaries, and the like. There was some 

14 



210 HISTORICAL TALES. 

little science and some little history, but the work 
which chiefly pleased him was a French poem, " Le 
Chevalier Delibere,'" then popular, which celebrated 
the exploits of the house of Burgundy, and especially 
of Charles the Bold. 

And now it comes in place to say something of 
how Charles employed himself at Yuste, aside from 
eating and drinking and shivering in his chimney 
corner. The mode in which a monarch retired from 
business passes his time cannot be devoid of interest. 
He by no means gave up his attention to the affairs 
of the realm, but kept himself well informed in all 
that was going on, sometimes much to his annoy- 
ance, since blunders were made that gave him a 
passing desire to be again at the head of affairs. In 
truth, two years after his retirement, the public con- 
cerns got into such a snarl that Philip earnestly 
sought to induce the emperor to leave his retreat 
and aid him with his ripened experience. This 
Charles utterly refused to do. He had had his fill 
of politics. It was much less trouble to run a house- 
hold than a nation. But he undertook to do what 
he could to improve the revenues of the crown. 
Despatches about public affairs were brought to him 
constantly, and his mental thermometer went up or 
down as things prospered or the reverse. But he 
was not to be tempted to plunge again into the tur- 
bulent tide of public affairs. 

Charles had other and more humble duties to oc- 
cupy his time. His paroxysms of gout came only 
at intervals, and in the periods between he kept him- 
self engaged. He had a taste for mechanics, and 



AN EMPEROR RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 211 

among his attendants was an Italian named Torri- 
ano, a man of much ingenuity, who afterwards con- 
structed the celebrated hydraulic works at Toledo.* 
He was a skilful clock-maker, and, as Charles took a 
special interest in timepieces, his assistant furnished 
his apartments with a series of elaborate clocks. 
One of these was so complicated that its construc- 
tion occupied more than three years, every detail 
of the work being curiously watched by Charles. 
Watches were then of recent invention, yet there 
were a number of them at Yuste, made by Torriano. 

The attempt to make his clocks keep time together 
is said to have been one of the daily occupations of 
the retired emperor, and the adjustment of his clocks 
and watches gave him so much trouble that he is 
said to have one day remarked that it was absurd to 
try and make men think alike, when, do what he 
would, he could not make two of his timepieces agree. 

He often amused himself with Torriano in making 
little puppets, — soldiers that would go through their 
exercises, dancing tambourine-girls, etc. It is even 
asserted that they constructed birds that would fly 
in and out of the window, a story rather diflicult to 
accept. The monks began to look upon Torriano as 
a professor of magic when he invented a handmill 
small enough to be hidden in a friar's sleeve, yet 
capable of grinding enough meal in a day to last a 
man for a week. 

The emperor was very fond of music, particularly 
devotional music, and was a devotee in religious ex- 
ercises, spending much of his time in listening to the 
addresses of the chaplains, and observing the fasts 



212 HISTORICAL TALES. 

and festivals of the Church. His fondness for fish 
made the Lenten season anything but a period of 
penance for him. 

He went on, indeed, eating and drinking as he 
would ; and his disease went on growing and deepen- 
ing, until at length the shadow of death lay heavy on 
the man whose religion did not include temperance in 
its precepts. During 1558 he grew steadily weaker, 
and on the 21st of September the final day came ; 
his eyes quietly closed and life fled from his frame. 

Yuste, famous as the abiding-place of Charles in 
his retirement, remained unmolested in the subse- 
quent history of the country until 1810, when a 
party of French dragoons, foraging near by, found 
the murdered body of one of their comrades not far 
from the monastery gates. Sure in their minds that 
the monks had killed him, they broke in, dispersed 
the inmates, and set the buildings on fire. The ex- 
tensive pile of edifices continued to burn for eight 
days, no one seeking to quench the flames. On the 
ninth the ancient monastery was left a heap of ashes, 
only the church remaining, and, protected by it, the 
palace of Charles. 

In 1820 a body of neighboring insurgents entered 
and defaced the remaining buildings, carrying off 
everything they could find of value and turning the 
church into a stable. Some of the monks returned, 
but in 1837 came an act suppressing the convents, 
and the poor Jeromymites were finally turned adrift. 
To-day the palace of Charles V. presents only deso- 
late and dreary chambers, used as magazines for grain 
and olives. So passes away the glory of the world. 



THE FATE OF A RECKLESS 
PRINCE. 

In 1568 died Don Carlos, Prince of Asturias, the 
son of Philip II. of Spain ; and in the same year died 
Isabella of Yalois, the young and beautiful queen of 
the Spanish monarch. Legend has connected the 
names of Carlos and Isabella, and a mystery hangs 
over them which research has failed to dispel. Their 
supposed love, their untimely fate, and the suspicion 
that their death was due to the jealousy of the king, 
have proved a prolific theme for fiction, and the 
story of the supposed unhappy fate of the two has 
passed from the domain of history into that of 
romance and the drama, there being more than one 
fine play based on the loves and misfortunes of Car- 
los and Isabella. But sober history tells nothing of 
the kind, and it is with history that we are here 
concerned. 

Carlos, the heir of the throne of Spain, was born 
in 1545. He was a bold, headstrong boy, reckless 
in disposition, fond of manly exercises, generous to 
a fault, fearless of heart, and passionately desirous 
of a military life. In figure he was deformed, one 
shoulder being higher and one leg longer than the 
other, while his chest was flat and his back slightly 
humped. His features were not unhandsome, 

213 



214 HISTORICAL TALES. 

though very pale, and he spoke with some difficulty. 
He was feeble and sickly as a boy, subject to inter- 
mittent fever, and wasted away so greatly that it 
seemed as if he would not live to manhood. 

Such were the mental and physical characteristics 
of the princely youth who while still young was be- 
trothed by treaty to the beautiful French princess 
Isabella of Yalois. The marriage was not destined 
to take place. Before the treaty was ratified, Queen 
Mary of England, Philip's wife, died, and his name 
was substituted for that of his son in the marriaore 
treaty. The wedding ceremony took place at Toledo, 
in February, 1560, and was celebrated with great 
splendor. Carlos was present, and may have felt 
some resentment at being robbed by his father of 
this beautiful bride. Eomantic historians tell us 
that Isabella felt a tender sentiment for him, a very 
unlikely statement in view of the fact that he was 
at that time a sickly, ill-favored boy of only four- 
teen years of age. Shortly after the marriage Car- 
los was formally recognized as heir to the crown. 

Two years afterwards a serious accident occurred. 
In descending a flight of stairs the boy slipped and 
fell headlong, injuring his head so severely that his 
life was despaired of His head swelled to an enor- 
mous size ; he became delirious and totally blind ; 
examination showed that his skull was fractured ; a 
part of the bone was removed, but no relief was ob- 
tained. All the arts of the doctors of that day 
were tried in vain, but the boy got no better. Pro- 
cessions were made to the churches, prayers were 
offered, and pilgrimages were vowed, all without 



THE FATE OF A RECKLESS PRINCE. 215 

avail. Then more radical means were tried. The 
mouldering bones of a holy Franciscan, who had died 
a hundred years before, were taken from their cof- 
fin and laid on the boy's bed, and the cloth that had 
enclosed the dead man's skull was placed on his 
forehead. Fortunately for the boy, he was delirious 
when these gruesome remedies were applied. 

That night, we are gravely told, the dead friar 
came to Carlos in his sleep, bidding him to " be of 
good cheer, for he would certainly recover." Soon 
after, the fever subsided, his head shrank back to its 
natural size, his sight returned. In two months 
from the date of the accident he was well, and Fray 
Diego, the worthy friar, was made a saint for the 
miracle his bones had performed. Possibly youth 
and nature had their fair share in the cure. 

Likely enough the boy was never cured. The 
blow may have done some permanent injury to his 
brain. At any rate, he became strikingly eccentric 
and reckless, giving way to every mad whim that 
came into his mind. The stories of his wild doings 
formed the scandal of Madrid. In 1564 one of his 
habits was to patrol the streets with a number of 
young nobles as lawless as himself, attacking the 
passengers with their swords, kissing the women, 
and using foul language to ladies of the highest 
rank. 

At that time it was the custom for the young gal- 
lants of the court to wear very large boots. Carlos 
increased the size of his, that he might carry in them 
a pair of small pistols. Fearing mischief, the king 
ordered the shoemaker to reduce the size of his 



216 HISTORICAL TALES. 

son's boots ; but when the unlucky son of St. Cris- 
pin brought them to the palace, the prince flew into 
a rage, beat him severely, and then ordered the 
leather to be cut into pieces and stewed, and forced 
the shoemaker to swallow it on the spot — or as much 
of it as he could get down. 

These are only a sample of his pranks. He beat 
his governor, attempted to throw his chamberlain 
out of the window, and threatened to stab Cardinal 
Espinosa for banishing a favorite actor from the 
palace. 

One anecdote told of him displays a reckless and 
whimsical humor. Having need of money, Carlos 
asked of a merchant, named Grimaldo, a loan of 
fifteen hundred ducats. The money-lender readily 
consented, thanked the prince for the compliment, 
and, in the usual grandiloquent vein of Castilian 
courtesy, told Carlos that all he had was at his dis- 
posal. 

"I am glad to learn that," answered the prince. 
*' You may make the loan, then, one hundred thou- 
sand ducats." 

Poor Grimaldo was thunderstruck. He trem- 
blingly protested that it was impossible, — he had 
not the money. " It would ruin my credit," he de- 
clared. " What I said were only words of compli- 
ment." 

" You have no right to bandy compliments with 
princes," Don Carlos replied. " I take you at your 
word. If you do not, in twenty-four hours, pay 
over the money to the last real, you shall have bitter 
cause to rue it." 



THE FATE OP A RECKLESS PRINCE. 217 

The unhappy Grimaldo knew not what to do. 
Carlos was persistent. It took much negotiation to 
induce the prince to reduce the sum to sixty thou- 
sand ducats, which the merchant raised and paid, — 
with a malediction on all words of compliment. The 
money flew like smoke from the prince's hands, he 
being quite capable of squandering the revenues of 
a kingdom. He lived in the utmost splendor, and 
was lavish with all who came near him, saying, in 
support of his gifts and charities, " Who will give if 
princes do not?" 

The mad excesses of the prince, his wild defiance 
of decency and decorum, were little to the liking of 
his father, who surrounded the young man with 
agents whom he justly looked upon as spies, and be- 
came wilder in his conduct in consequence. Offers 
of marriage were made from abroad. Catharine de 
Medicis proposed the hand of a younger sister of 
Isabella. The emperor of Germany pressed for a 
union with his daughter Anne, the cousin of Carlos. 
Philip agreed to the latter, but deferred the mar- 
riage. He married Anne himself after the death of 
Carlos, making her his fourth wife. Thus both the 
princesses intended for the son became the brides 
of the father. 

The trouble between Carlos and his father steadily 
grew. The prince was now twenty-one years of 
age, and, in his eagerness for a military life, wished 
to take charge of affairs in the Netherlands, then in 
rebellion against Spain. On learning that the Duke 
of Alva was to be sent thither, Carlos said to him, 
" You are not to go there ; I will go myself." 



218 HISTORICAL TALES. 

The efforts of the duke to soothe him only irri- 
tated him, and in the end he drew his dagger and 
exclaimed, " You shall not go ; if you do I will kill 
you." 

A struggle followed, the prince making violent 
efforts to stab the duke. It only ended when a 
chamberlain came in and rescued Alva. This out- 
rage on his minister doubled the feeling of animosity 
between father and son, and they grew so hostile 
that they ceased to speak, though living in the same 
palace. 

The next escapade of Carlos brought matters to a 
crisis. He determined to fly from Spain and seek a 
more agreeable home in Germany or the Nether- 
lands. As usual, he had no money, and he tried 
to obtain funds by demanding loans from different 
cities, — a reckless process which at once proclaimed 
that he had some mad design in mind. He went 
further than this, saying to his confidants that " he 
wished to kill a man with whom he had a quarrel." 
This purpose he confessed to a priest, and demanded 
absolution. The priest refused, and, as the prince 
persisted, a conclave of sixteen monks were brought 
together to settle the question of whether they could 
give absolution to such a penitent. 

After a debate on the subject, one of them asked 
Carlos the name of his enemy, intimating that this 
might have some effect on their decision. The prince 
calmly replied, — 

'' My father is the person. I wish to take his life." 

This extraordinary declaration, in which the mad 
prince persisted, threw the conclave into a state of 



THE FATE OF A RECKLESS PRINCE. 219 

the utmost consternation. On breaking up, they 
sent a messenger to the king, then at the Eseorial 
Palace, and made him acquainted with the whole 
affair. This story, if it is true, seems to indicate 
that the prince was insane. 

His application to the cities for funds was in a 
measure successful. By the middle of January, 1568, 
his agents brought him in a hundred and fifty thou- 
sand ducats, — a fourth of the sum he had demanded. 
On the 17th he sent an order to Don Eamon de 
Tassis, director-general of the posts, demanding that 
eight horses should be provided for him that evening. 
Tassis, suspecting something wrong, sent word that 
the horses were all out. Carlos repeated his order 
in a peremptory manner, and the postmaster now 
sent all the horses out, and proceeded with the news 
to the king at the Eseorial. Philip immediately re- 
turned to Madrid, where, the next morning, Carlos 
attacked his uncle, Don John of Austria, with a 
drawn sword, because the latter refused to repeat a 
conversation he had had with the king. 

For some time Carlos had slept with the utmost 
precautions, as if he feared an attack upon his life. 
His sword and dagger lay ready by his bedside, and 
he kept a loaded musket within reach. He had also 
a bolt constructed in such a manner that, by aid of 
pulleys, he could fasten or unfasten the door of his 
chamber while in bed. All this was known to Philip, 
and he ordered the mechanic who had made it to 
derange the mechanism so that it would not work. 
To force a way into the chamber of a man like 
Carlos might not have been safe. 



220 HISTORICAL TALES. 

At the hour of eleven that night the king came 
down-stairs, wearing armor on his body and a hel- 
met on his head. With him were the Duke of Feria, 
captain of the guard, several other lords, and twelve 
guardsmen. They quietly entered the chamber of 
the prince, and the duke, stealing to the bedside, se- 
cured the sword, dagger, and musket which lay there. 

The noise now wakened Carlos, who sprang up, 
demanding who was there. 

"It is the council of state," answered the duke. 

On hearing this the prince leaped from the bed, 
uttering threats and imprecations, and endeavored 
to seize his arms. Philip, who had prudently kept 
in the background until the weapons were secured, 
now advanced and bade his son to return to bed and 
keep quiet. 

" What does your majesty want of me ?" demanded 
the prince. 

" You will soon learn," Philip harshly replied. 

He then gave orders that the windows and doors 
of the room should be strongly secured and the keys 
brought to him. Every article of furniture, even 
the andirons, with which violence might have been 
done, was removed from the room. The king then 
appointed Feria keeper of the prince, and bade the 
other nobles to serve him, with due respect, saying 
that he would hold them as traitors if they permit- 
ted him to escape. 

" Your majesty had better kill me than keep me 
a prisoner," exclaimed Carlos. " It will be a great 
scandal to the kingdom. If you do not kill me I 
will kill myself" 



THE FATE OF A RECKLESS PRINCE. 221 

"You will do no such thing," answered Philip. 
" That would be the act of a madman." 

" Your majesty," replied the prince, " treats me so 
ill that you drive me to this extremity. I am not 
mad, but you drive me to despair." 

Other words passed, and on the withdrawal of the 
king the voice of Carlos was so broken by sobs that 
his words could scarcely be heard. That night the 
Duke of Feria and two other lords remained in the 
prince's room, — now his prison. Each succeeding 
night two of the six appointed lords performed this 
duty. They were not allowed to wear their swords 
in the presence of the prince, but his meat was cut 
up before serving, as no knife was permitted to be 
used at his meals. A guard was stationed in the 
passage without, and, as the prince could not look 
from his barricaded windows, he was from that day 
dead to the world. 

The king immediately summoned his council of 
state and began a process against the prisoner. 
Though making a show of deep affliction, he was 
present at all the meetings and listened to all the 
testimony, which, when written out, formed a heap 
of paper half a foot thick. 

The news of the arrest of Don Carlos made a great 
sensation in Spain. The wildest rumors were set 
afloat. Some said that he had tried to kill his father, 
others that he was plotting rebellion. Many laid all 
the blame on the king. " Others, more prudent than 
their neighbors, laid their fingers on their lips and 
were silent." The affair created almost as much 
sensation throughout Europe as in Spain. Philip, 



222 HISTORICAL TALES. 

in his despatches to other courts, spoke in such 
vague and mysterious language that it was impos- 
sible to tell what he meant, and the most varied 
surmises were advanced. 

Meanwhile, Carlos was kept rigorously confined, 
so much so that he was not left alone day or night. 
Of the two nobles in his chamber at night, one 
was required to keep awake while the other slept. 
They were permitted to talk with him, but not 
on political matters nor on the subject of his im- 
prisonment. They were ordered to bring him no 
messages from without nor receive any from him. 
No books except devotional ones were allowed 
him. 

If it was the purpose of Philip to end the life of 
his son by other means than execution he could not 
have taken better measures. For a young man of 
his high spirit and fiery temper such strict confine- 
ment was maddening. At first he was thrown into 
a frenzy, and tried more than once to make way 
with himself The sullenness of despair succeeded. 
He grew daily more emaciated, and the malarial 
fever which had so long afi'ected him now returned 
in a severe degree. To allay the heat of the fever 
he would deluge the floor of his chamber with water, 
and walk for hours with bare feet on the cold floor. 
He had a warming-pan filled with ice and snow 
brought him, and kept it for hours at night in his 
bed. He would drink snow-water in immoderate 
draughts. In his eating he seemed anxious to break 
down his strength, — now refusing all food for days 
together, now devouring a pasty of four partridges 



THE FATE OF A RECKLESS PRINCE. 223 

at a sitting, washing it down with three gallons or 
more of iced water. 

That he was permitted to indulge in such caprices 
seems to indicate that Philip wished him to kill him- 
self. l!^o constitution, certainly not so weak a one 
as that of Carlos, could long withstand these ex- 
cesses. His stomach refused to perform its duty; 
severe vomiting attacked him ; dysentery set in ; 
his strength rapidly failed. The expected end came 
on the 24th of July, six months after the date of 
his imprisonment, death releasing the prince from 
the misery of his unhappy lot. One writer tells us 
that it was hastened by a strong purgative dose, ad- 
ministered by his father's orders, and that he was 
really assassinated. However that be, Philip was 
certainly quite willing that he should destroy his 
own life. To one of his austere temperament it was 
probably an easy solution of a difficult problem. 

Less than three months passed after the death of 
Carlos when Isabella followed him to the grave. 
She was then but twenty-three years old, — about 
the same age as himself. The story was soon set 
afloat that Philip had murdered both his son and his 
wife, moved thereto by jealousy ; and from this has 
arisen the romantic story of secret love between the 
two, with the novels and dramas based thereon. 
In all probability the story is without foundation. 
Philip is said to have been warmly loved by his wife, 
and the poison which carried her away seems to have 
been the heavy doses of medicine with which the 
doctors of that day sought to cure a passing illness. 



SPAIN'S GREATEST VICTORY AT 

SEA, 

On the 16th of September, 1571, there sailed from 
the harbor of Messina one of the greatest fleets the 
Mediterranean had ever borne upon its waves. It 
consisted of more than three hundred vessels, most 
of them small, but some of great bulk for that day, 
carrying forty pieces of artillery. On board these 
ships were eighty thousand men. Of these, less than 
thirty thousand were soldiers, for in those days, 
when war-galleys were moved by oars rather than 
sails, great numbers of oarsmen were needed. At 
the head of this powerful armament was Don John 
of Austria, brother of Philip II., and the ablest 
naval commander that Spain possessed. 

At sunrise on the 7th of October the Spanish fleet 
came in sight, at the entrance to the Bay of Lepanto, 
on the west of Greece, of the great Turkish arma- 
ment, consisting of nearly two hundred and fifty 
royal galleys, with a number of smaller vessels in 
the rear. On these ships are said to have been not 
less than one hundred and twenty thousand men. 
A great battle for the control of the Mediterranean 
was about to be fought between two of the largest 
fleets ever seen on its waters. 

For more than a century the Turks had been 
224 



Spain's greatest victory at sea. 225 

masters of Constantinople and the Eastern Empire, 
and had extended their dominion far to the west. 
The Mediterranean had become a Turkish lake, 
which the fleets of the Ottoman emperors swept at 
will. Cyprus had fallen, Malta had sustained a ter- 
rible siege, and the coasts of Italy and Spain were 
exposed to frightful ravages, in which the corsairs 
of the Barbary states joined hands with the Turks. 
France only was exempt, its princes having made 
an alliance with Turkey, in which they gained 
safety at the cost of honor. 

Spain was the leading opponent of this devastating 
power. For centuries the Spanish people had been 
engaged in a bitter crusade against the Moslem 
forces. The conquest of Granada was followed by 
descents upon the African coast, the most important 
of which was the conquest of Tunis by Charles 
the Fifth in 1535, on which occasion ten thousand 
Christian captives were set free from a dreadful 
bondage. An expedition against Tripoli in 1559, 
however, ended in disaster, the Turks and the 
Moors continued triumphant at sea, and it was not 
until 1571 that the proud Moslem powers received an 
effectual check. 

The great fleet of which Don John of Austria 
was admiral-in-chief had not come solely from 
Spain. Genoa had furnished a large number of gal- 
leys, under their famous admiral, Andrew Doria, — 
a name to make the Moslems tremble. Venice had 
added its fleet, and the Papal States had sent a 
strong contingent of ships. Italy had been suffer- 
ing from the Turkish fleet, fire and sword had turned 

15 



226 



HISTORICAL TALES. 



the Yenetian coasts into a smoking desolation, and 
this was the answer of Christian Europe to the 
Turkish menace. 

The sight of the Turkish fleet on that memorable 
7th of October created instant animation in the 
Christian armament. Don John hoisted his pennon, 
ordered the great standard of the league, given by 
the Pope, to be unfurled, and fired a gun in defiance 
of the Turks. Some of the commanders doubted 
the wisdom of engaging the enemy in a position 
where he had the advantage, but the daring young 
commander curtly cut short the discussion. 

" Gentlemen," he said, " this is the time for com- 
bat, not for counsel." 

Steadily the two fleets approached each other on 
that quiet sea. The Spanish ships extended over a 
width of three miles. On the right was Andrew 
Doria, with sixty-four galleys. The centre, consist- 
ing of sixty-three galleys, was commanded by Don 
John, with Colonna, the captain-general of the Pope, 
on one flank, and Yeniero, the Yenetian captain- 
general, on the other. The left wing, commanded 
by the noble Yenetian Barbarigo, extended as near 
to the coast of ^tolia as it was deemed safe to ven- 
ture. The reserve, of thirty-five galleys, was under 
the Marquis of Santa Cruz. The plan of battle was 
simple. Don John's orders to his captains were for 
each to select an adversary, close with him at once, 
and board as soon as possible. 

As the fleet advanced the armament of the Turks 
came into full view, spread out in half- moon shape 
over a wider space than that of the allies. The great 



Spain's greatest victory at sea 227 

galleys, with their gilded and brightly painted prows 
and their myriad of banners and pennons, presented 
a magnificent spectacle. But the wind, which had 
thus far favored the Turks, now suddenly shifted and 
blew in their faces, and the sun, as the day advanced, 
shone directly in their eyes. The centre of their 
line was occupied by the huge galley of Ali Pasha, 
their leader. Their right was commanded by Ma- 
homet Sirocco, viceroy of Egypt ; their left by Uluch 
Ali, dey of Algiers, the most redoubtable of the cor- 
sair lords of the sea. 

The breeze continued light. It was nearly noon 
when the fleets came face to face. The sun, now 
Bearing the zenith, shone down from a cloudless sky. 
As yet it seemed like some grand holiday spectacle 
rather than the coming of a struggle for life or death. 

Suddenly the shrill war-cry of the Turks rang out 
on the air. Their cannon began to play. The firing 
ran along the line until the whole fleet was engaged. 
On the Christian side the trumpets rang defiance 
and the guns answered the Turkish peals. The 
galeazzaSj a number of mammoth war-ships, had 
been towed a half-mile in advance of the Spanish 
fleet, and as the Turks came up poured broadsides 
from their heavy guns with striking efifect, doing 
considerable damage. But Ali Pasha, not caring to 
engage these monster craft, opened his lines and 
passed them by. They had done their work, and 
took no further part, being too unwieldy to enter 
into close action. 

The battle began on the left. Barbarigo, the Ve- 
netian admiral, had brought his ships as near the 



228 



HISTORICAL TALES. 



coast as he dared. But Mahomet Sirocco knew the 
waters better, passed between his ships and the shore, 
and doubled upon him, bringing the Christian line 
between two fires. Barbarigo was wounded, eight 
galleys were sent to the bottom, and several were 
captured. Yet the Venetians, who hated the Turks 
with a mortal hatred, fought on with unyielding 
fury. 

Uluch Ali, on the Christian right, tried the same 
manoeuvre. But he had Andrew Doria, the experi- 
enced Genoese, to deal with, and his purpose was 
defeated by a wide extension of the Christian line. 
It was a trial of skill between the two ablest com- 
manders on the Mediterranean. Doria, by stretch- 
ing out his line, had weakened his centre, and the 
corsair captain, with alert decision, fell upon some 
galleys separated from their companions, sinking 
several, and carrying off the great Capitana of Malta 
as a prize. 

Thus both on the right and on the left the Chris- 
tians had the worst of it. The severest struggle was 
in the centre. Here were the flag-ships of the com- 
manders, — the Eeal, Don John's vessel, flying the 
holy banner of the League ; Ali Pasha displaying the 
great Ottoman standard, covered with texts from 
the Koran in letters of gold, and having the name 
of Allah written upon it many thousands of times. 

Both the commanders, young and ardent, burned 
with desire to meet in mid battle. The rowers urged 
forward their vessels with an energy that sent them 
ahead of the rest of their lines, driving them through 
the foaming water with such force that the pasha's 



Spain's greatest victory at sea. 229 

galley, much the larger and loftier of the two, was 
hurled upon its opponent until its prow reached the 
fourth bench of rowers. Both vessels groaned and 
quivered to their very keels with the shock. 

As soon as the vessels could be disengaged the 
combat began, the pasha opening with a fierce fire 
of cannon and musketry, which was returned with 
equal fury and more efiect. The Spanish gunners 
and musketeers were protected by high defences, 
and much of the Turkish fire went over their heads, 
while their missiles, poured into the unprotected and 
crowded crews of All's flag-ship, caused terrible loss. 
But the Turks had much the advantage in numbers, 
and both sides fought with a courage that made the 
result a matter of doubt. 

The flag-ships were not long left alone. Other 
vessels quickly gathered round them, and the com- 
bat spread fiercely to both sides. The new-comers 
attacked one another and assailed at every oppor- 
tunity the two central ships. But the latter, beating 
off their assailants, clung together with unyielding 
pertinacity, as if upon them depended the whole 
issue of the fight. 

The complete width of the entrance to the bay of 
Lepanto was now a scene of mortal combat, though 
the vessels were so lost under a pall of smoke that 
none of the combatants could see far to the right or 
left. The lines, indeed, were broken up into small 
detachments, each fighting the antagonists in their 
front, and ignorant of what was going on elsewhere. 
The battle was in no sense a grand whole, but a 
series of separate combats in which the galleys grap- 



230 HISTORICAL TALES. 

pled and the soldiers and sailors boarded and fought 
hand to hand. The slaughter was frightful. In the 
case of some vessels, it is said, every man on board 
was killed or wounded, while the blood that flowed 
from the decks stained the waters of the gulf red 
for miles. 

The left wing of the allies, as has been said, was 
worsted at the beginning of the fight, its commander 
receiving a wound which proved mortal. But the 
Yenetians fought on with the courage of despair. 
In the end they drove back their adversaries and 
themselves became the assailants, taking vessel after 
vessel from the foe. The vessel of Mahomet Sirocco 
was sunk, and he was slain after escaping death by 
drowning. His death ended the resistance of his 
followers. They turned to fly, many of the vessels 
being run ashore and abandoned and their crews 
largely perishing in the water. 

While victory in this quarter perched on the Chris- 
tian banners, the mortal struggle in the centre went 
on. The flag-ships still clung together, an incessant 
fire of artillery and musketry sweeping both decks. 
The Spaniards proved much the better marksmen, 
but the greater numbers of the Turks, and reinforce- 
ments received from an accompanying vessel, bal- 
anced this advantage. Twice the Spaniards tried to 
board and were driven back. A third efl"ort was 
more successful, and the deck of the Turkish galley 
was reached. The two commanders cheered on their 
men, exposing themselves to danger as freely as the 
meanest soldier. Don John received a wound in the 
foot, — fortunately a slight one. Ali Pasha led his 



Spain's greatest victory at sea. 231 

janizaries boldly against the boarders, but as be did 
so he was struck in the head by a musket-ball and 
fell. The loss of his inspiring voice discouraged his 
men. For a time they continued to struggle, but, 
borne back by their impetuous assailants, they threw 
down their arms and asked for quarter. 

The deck was covered with the bodies of the dead 
and wounded. From beneath them the body of Ali 
was drawn, severely, perhaps mortally, wounded. 
His rescuers would have killed him on the spot, but 
he diverted them by pointing out where his money 
and jewels could be found. The next soldier to come 
up was one of the galley-slaves, whom Don John had 
unchained from the oar and supplied with arms. 
All's story of treasure was lost on him. "With one 
blow he severed his head from his shoulders, and 
carried the gory prize to Don John, laying it at his 
feet. The generous Spaniard looked at it with a 
mingling of pity and horror. 

" Of what use can such a present be to me ?" he 
coldly asked the slave, who looked for some rich re- 
ward ; " throw it into the sea." 

This was not done. The head was stuck on a 
pike and raised aloft on the captured galley. At the 
same time the great Ottoman banner was drawn 
down, while that of the Cross was elevated with 
cheers of triumph in its place. 

The shouts of " victory !" the sight of the Chris- 
tian standard at the mast-head of All's ship, the 
news of his death, which spread from ship to ship, 
gave new courage to the allies and robbed the 
Turks of spirit. They fought on, but more feebly. 



232 HISTORICAL TALES. 

Many of their vessels were boarded and taken. 
Others were sunk. After four hours of fighting 
the resistance of the Turkish centre was at an end. 

On the right, as related, Andrew Doria had suf- 
fered a severe loss by stretching his line too far. 
He would have suffered still more had not the re- 
serve under Santa Cruz, which had already given 
aid to Don John, come to his relief. Strengthened 
by Cardona with the Sicilian squadron, he fell on 
the Algerine galleys with such fierceness that they 
were forced to recoil. In their retreat they wero 
hotly assailed by Doria, and Uluch, beset on all 
sides, was obliged to abandon his prizes and take to 
flight. Tidings now came to him of the defeat of 
the centre and the death of Ali, and, hoisting signals 
for retreat, he stood in all haste to the north, followed 
by the galleys of his fleet. 

With all sail spread and all its oarsmen vigor- 
ously at work, the corsair fleet sped rapidly away, 
followed by Doria and Santa Cruz. Don John joined 
in the pursuit, hoping to intercept the fugitives in 
front of a rocky headland which stretched far into 
the sea. But the skilled Algerine leader weathered 
this peril, losing a few vessels on the rocks, the re- 
mainder, nearly forty in number, bearing boldly 
onward. Soon they distanced their pursuers, many 
of whose oarsmen had taken part and been wounded 
in the fight. Before nightfall the Algerines were 
vanishing below the horizon. 

There being signs of a coming storm, Don John 
hastened to seek a harbor of refuge, setting fire to 
Buch vessels as were damaged beyond usefulness, and 



Spain's greatest victory at sea. 233 

with the remainder of his prizes making all haste 
to the neighboring port of Petala, the best harbor 
within reach. 

The loss of the Turks had been immense, prob- 
ably not less than twenty -five thousand being killed 
and five thousand taken prisoners. To Don John's 
prizes may be added twelve thousand Christian cap- 
tives, chained to the oars by the Turks, who now 
came forth, with tears of joy, to bless their deliver- 
ers. The allies had lost no more than eight thou- 
sand men. This discrepancy was largely due to 
their use of fire-arms, while many of the Turks 
fought with bows and arrows. Only the forty Al- 
gerine ships escaped ; one hundred and thirty vessels 
were taken. The Christian loss was but fifteen gal- 
leys. The spoils were large and valuable, consisting 
in great measure of gold, jewels, and rich brocades. 

Of the noble cavaliers who took part in the fight, 
we shall speak only of Alexander Farnese, Prince 
of Parma, a nephew of Don John, whom he was 
destined to succeed in military renown. He began 
here his career with a display of courage and daring 
unsurpassed on the fleet. Among the combatants 
was a common soldier, Cervantes by name, whose 
future glory was to throw into the shade that of all 
the leaders in the fight. Though confined to bed 
with a fever on the morning of the battle, he in- 
sisted on taking part, and his courage in the aifray 
was shown by two wounds on his breast and a third 
in his hand which disabled it for life. Fortunately 
it was the left hand. The right remained to write 
the immortal story of Don Quixote de la Mancha. 



234 



HISTORICAL TALES. 



Thus ended one of the greatest naval battles of 
modern times. No important political effect came 
from it, but it yielded an immense moral result. It 
had been the opinion of Europe that the Turks were 
invincible at sea. This victory dispelled that theory, 
gave new heart to Christendom, and so dispirited the 
Turks that in the next year they dared not meet the 
Christians at sea, though they were commanded by 
the daring dey of Algiers. The beginning of the 
decline of the Ottoman empire may be said to date 
from the battle of Lepanto. 



THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 

During almost the whole reign of Philip II. the 
army of Spain was kept busily engaged, now with 
the Turks and the Barbary states, now with the re- 
volted Moriscos, or descendants of the Moors of 
Granada, now in the conquest of Portugal, now with 
the heretics of the Netherlands. All this was not 
enough for the ambition of the Spanish king. Eliza- 
beth of England had aided the Netherland rebels 
and had insulted him in America by sending fleets 
to plunder his colonies ; England, besides, was a nest 
of enemies of the true churchy who needed conver- 
sion by fire and sword ; Philip determined on the 
conquest of that uncivil and perfidious island and 
the enforced catholization of its people. 

For months all the shipwrights of Spain were 
kept busy in building vessels of an extraordinary 
size. Throughout the kingdom stores were actively 
collected for their equipment. Levies of soldiers 
were made in Italy, Germany, and the Netherlands, 
to augment the armies of Spain. What was in view 
was the secret of the king, but through most of 
1587 all Europe resounded with the noise of his 
preparations. 

Philip broached his project to his council of state, 
but did not gain much support for his enterprise. 
" England," said one of them, " is surrounded with 

235 



236 HISTORICAL TALES. 

a tempestuous ocean and has few harbors. Its navy 
is equal to that of any other nation, and if a landing 
is made we shall find its coasts defended by a power- 
ful army. It would be better first to subdue the 
^Netherlands ; that done we shall be better able to 
chastise the English queen." The Duke of Parma, 
Philip's general in chief, was of the same opinion. 
Before any success could be hoped for, he said, Spain 
should get possession of some large seaport in Zea- 
land, for the accommodation of its fleet. 

These prudent counsels were thrown away on the 
self-willed king. His armies had lately conquered 
Portugal ; England could not stand before their valor ; 
one battle at sea and another on shore would decide 
the contest; the fleet he was building would over- 
whelm all the ships that England possessed; the 
land forces of Elizabeth, undisciplined and unused to 
war, could not resist his veteran troops, the heroes 
of a hundred battles, and led by the greatest general 
of the age. All this he insisted on. Europe should 
see what he could do. England should be punished 
for its heresy and Elizabeth pay dearly for her dis- 
courtesy. 

Philip was confirmed in his purpose by the appro- 
bation of the Pope. Elizabeth of England was the 
greatest enemy of the Catholic faith. She had abol- 
ished it throughout her dominions and executed as a 
traitor the Catholic Queen Mary of Scotland. For 
nearly thirty years she had been the chief support of 
the Protestants in Germany, France, and the Nether- 
lands. The interests of the Church demanded that 
its arch-enemy should be deprived of power. The 



THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 237 

Pope, therefore, encouraged the Spanish king, and 
he, whose highest ambition was to be considered the 
guardian of the Church, hastened his preparations 
for the conquest of the island kingdom. 

Elizabeth was not deceived by the falsehoods set 
afloat by Spain. She did not believe that this great 
fleet was intended partly for the reduction of Hol- 
land, partly for use in America, as Philip declared. 
Scenting danger afar, she sent Sir Francis Drake 
with a fleet to the coast of Spain to interrupt these 
stupendous preparations. 

Drake was the man for the work. Dispersing the 
Spanish fleet sent to oppose him, he entered the 
harbor of Cadiz, where he destroyed two large gal- 
leons and a handsome vessel filled with provisions 
and naval stores. Then he sailed for the Azores, 
captured a rich carrack on the way home from the 
East Indies, and returned to England laden with 
spoils. He had efl^ectually put an end to Philip's 
enterprise for that year. 

Philip now took steps towards a treaty of peace 
with England, for the purpose of quieting the sus- 
picions of the queen. She appeared to fall into the 
snare, pretended to believe that his fleet was intended 
for Holland and America, and entered into a con- 
ference with Spain for the settlement of all dis- 
turbing questions. But at the same time she raised 
an army of eighty thousand men, fortified all ex- 
posed ports, and went vigorously to work to equip 
her fleet. She had then less than thirty ships in her 
navy, and these much smaller than those of Spain, 
but the English sailors were the best and boldest in 



238 HISTORICAL TALES. 

the world, new ships were rapidly built, and pains 
was taken to increase the abhorrence which the 
people felt for the tyranny of Spain. Accounts were 
spread abroad of the barbarities practised in America 
and in the Xetherlands, vivid pictures were drawn 
of the cruelties of the Inquisition, and the Catholic 
as well as the Protestant people of England became 
active in preparing for defence. The whole island 
was of one mind ; loyalty seemed universal ; the citi- 
zens of London provided thirty ships, and the no- 
bility and gentry of England forty or fifty more. 
But these were of small size as compared with those 
of their antagonist, and throughout the island ap- 
prehension prevailed. 

In the beginning of May, 1588, Philip's strenuous 
labors were concluded and the great fleet was ready. 
It was immense as compared with that with which 
William the Conqueror had invaded and conquered 
England five centuries before. The Invincible Ar- 
mada, as the Spaniards called it, consisted of one 
hundred and fifty ships, many of them of enormous 
size. They were armed with more than two thou- 
sand six hundred great guns, were provisioned for 
half a year, and contained military stores in a pro- 
fusion which only the wealth of America and the 
Indies could have supplied. On them were nearly 
twenty thousand of the famous troops of Spain, with 
two thousand volunteers of the most distinguished 
families, and eight thousand sailors. In addition 
there was assembled in the coast districts of the 
Netherlands an army of thirty-four thousand men, 
for whose transportation to England a great number 



THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 239 

of flat-bottomed vessels had been procured. These 
were to venture upon the sea as soon as the Armada 
was in position for their support. 

And now, indeed, " perfidious Albion" had reason 
to tremble. ]N"ever had that nation of islanders been 
so seriously threatened, not even when the ships of 
William of Normandy were setting sail for its shores. 
The great fleet, which lay at Lisbon, then a city of 
Spain, was to set sail in the early days of May, and 
no small degree of fear afi'ected the hearts of all 
Protestant Europe, for the conquest of England by 
Philip the fanatic would have been a frightful blow 
to the cause of religious and political liberty. 

All had so far gone well with Spain ; now all began 
to go ill. At the very time fixed for sailing the 
Marquis of Santa Cruz, the admiral of the fleet, was 
taken violently ill and died, and with him died the 
Duke of Paliano, the vice-admiral. Santa Cruz's 
place was not easy to fill. Philip chose to succeed 
him the Duke of Medina Sidonia, a nobleman totally 
ignorant of sea afi'airs, giving him for vice-admiral 
Martinez de Eecaldo, a seaman of much experience. 
All this caused so much delay that the fleet did not 
sail till May 29. 

Storm succeeded sickness to interfere with PhiHp's 
plans. A tempest fell on the fleet on its way to 
Corunna, where it was to take on some troops and 
stores. All but four of the ships reached Corunna, 
but they had been so battered and dishevelled by 
the winds that several weeks passed before they 
could again be got ready for sea, — much to the dis- 
comfiture of the king, who was eager to become the 



240 HISTORICAL TALES. 

lord and master of England. He had dwelt there 
in former years as the husband of Queen Mary; 
now he was ambitious to set foot there as absolute 
king. 

England, meanwhile, was in an ebullition of joy. 
Word had reached there that the Spanish fleet was 
rendered unseaworthy by the storm, and the queen's 
secretary, in undue haste, ordered Lord Howard, the 
admiral, to lay up four of his largest ships and dis- 
charge their crews, as they would not be needed. 
But Howard was not so ready to believe a vague 
report, and begged the queen to let him keep the 
ships, even if at his own expense, till the truth could 
be learned. To satisfy himself, he set sail for Co- 
runna, intending to try and destroy the Armada if 
as much injured as reported. Learning the truth, 
and finding that a favorable wind for Spain had be- 
gun to blow, he returned to Plymouth in all haste, 
in some dread lest the Armada might precede him 
to the English coast. 

He had not long been back when stirring tidings 
came. The Armada had been seen upon the seas. 
Lord Howard at once left harbor with his fleet. The 
terrible moment of conflict, so long and nervously 
awaited, was at hand. On the next day — July 30 — 
he came in view of the great Spanish fleet, drawn 
up in the form of a crescent, with a space of seven 
miles between its wings. Before this giant fleet his 
own seemed but a dwarf. Paying no attention to 
Lord Howard's ships, the Armada moved on with 
dignity up the Channel, its purpose being to disperse 
the Dutch and English ships otf the Netherland coast 



THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 241 

and escort to England the Duke of Parma's army, 
then ready to sail. 

Lord Howard deemed it wisest to pursue a guerilla 
mode of warfare, harassing the Spaniards and taking 
any advantage that offered. He first attacked the 
flag-ship of the vice-admiral Kecaldo, and with such 
vigor and dexterity as to excite great alarm in the 
Spanish fleet. From that time it kept closer order, yet 
on the same day Howard attacked one of its largest 
ships. Others hurried to the aid ; but in their haste 
two of them ran afoul, one, a large galleon, having 
her mast broken. She fell behind and was captured 
by Sir Francis Drake, who discovered, to his delight, 
that she had on board a chief part of the Spanish 
treasure. 

Other combats took place, in all of which the 
English were victorious. The Spaniards proved ig- 
norant of marine evolutions, and the English sailed 
around them with a velocity which none of their 
ships could equal, and proved so much better marks- 
men that nearly every shot told, while the Spanish 
gunners fired high and wasted their balls in the air. 
The fight with the Armada seemed a prototype of 
the much later sea-battles at Manila and Santiago 
de Cuba. 

Finally, after a halt before Calais, the Armada 
came within sight of Dunkirk, where Parma's army, 
with its flat-bottomed transports, was waiting to 
embark. Here a calm fell upon the fleets, and they 
remained motionless for a whole day. But about 
midnight a breeze sprang up and Lord Howard put 
into effect a scheme he had devised the previous day. 

16 



242 



HISTORICAL TALES. 



He had made a number of fire-ships by filling eight 
vessels with pitch, sulphur, and other combustibles, 
and these were now set on fire and sent down the 
wind against the Spanish fleet. 

It was with terror that the Spaniards beheld the 
coming of these flaming ships. They remembered 
vividly the havoc occasioned by fire-ships at the 
siege of Antwerp. The darkness of the night added 
to their fears, and panic spread from end to end of the 
fleet. All discipline vanished ; self-preservation was 
the sole thought of each crew. Some took time to 
weigh their anchors, but others, in wild haste, cut 
their cables, and soon the ships were driving blindly 
before the wind, some running afoul of each other 
and being completely disabled by the shock. 

^Yhen day dawned Lord Howard saw with the 
highest satisfaction the results of his stratagem. 
The Spanish fleet was in the utmost disorder, its 
ships widely dispersed. His own fleet had just been 
strengthened, and he at once made an impetuous 
attack upon the scattered Armada. The battle be- 
gan at four in the morning and lasted till six in the 
evening, the Spaniards fighting with great bravery 
but doing little execution. Many of their ships were 
greatly damaged, and ten of the largest were sunk, 
run aground, or captured. The principal galeas, or 
large galley, manned with three hundred galley 
slaves and having on board four hundred soldiers, 
was driven ashore near Calais, and nearly all the 
Spaniards were killed or drowned in attempting to 
reach land. The rowers were set at liberty. 

The Spanish admiral was greatly dejected by this 



THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 243 

series of misfortunes. As yet the English had lost 
but one small ship and about one hundred men, 
while his losses had been so severe that he began to 
dread the destruction of the entire fleet. He could 
not without great danger remain where he was. 
His ships were too large to approach nearer to the 
coast of Flanders. Philip had declined to secure a 
suitable harbor in Zealand, as advised. The Armada 
was a great and clumsy giant, from which Lord 
Howard's much smaller fleet had not fled in terror, 
as had been expected, and which now was in such a 
condition that there was nothing left for it but to 
try and return to Spain. 

But the getting there was not easy. A return 
through the Channel was hindered by the wind, 
which blew strongly from the south. Nor was it a 
wise movement in the face of the English fleet. 
The admiral, therefore, determined to sail northward 
and make the circuit of the British islands. 

Unfortunately for Lord Howard, he was in no 
condition to pursue. By the neglect of the authori- 
ties he had been ill-supplied with gunpowder, and 
was forced to return to England for a fresh supply. 
But for this deficiency he possibly might, in the dis- 
tressed condition of the Spanish fleet, have forced a 
surrender of the entire Armada. As it was, his re- 
turn proved fortunate, for the fleets had not far sep- 
arated when a frightful tempest began, which did 
considerable harm to the English ships, but fell with 
all its rage on the exposed Armada. 

The ships, drawn up in close ranks, were hurled 
fiercely together, many being sunk. Driven help- 



244 HISTORICAL TALES. 

lessly before the wind, some were dashed to pieces 
on the rocks of Norway, others on the Scottish coast 
or the shores of the western islands. Some went 
down in the open sea. A subsequent storm, which 
came from the west, drove more than thirty of them 
on the Irish coast. Of these, some got off in a shat- 
tered state, others were utterly wrecked and their 
crews murdered on reaching the shore. The admi- 
ral's ship, which had kept in the open sea, reached 
the Spanish coast about the close of September. 

Even after reaching harbor in Spain troubles pur- 
sued them, two of the galleons taking fire and burn- 
ing to ashes. Of the delicately reared noble volun- 
teers, great numbers had died from the hardships 
of the voyage, and many more died from diseases 
contracted at sea. The total loss is not known ; 
some say that thirty-two, some that more than 
eighty, ships were lost, while the loss of life is esti- 
mated at from ten thousand to fifteen thousand. 
Spain felt the calamity severely. There was hardly 
a family of rank that had not some one of its mem- 
bers to mourn, and so universal was the grief that 
Philip, to whose ambition the disaster was due, felt 
obliged to issue an edict to abridge the time of public 
mourning. 

In England and Holland, on the contrary, the 
event was hailed with universal joy. Days of sol- 
emn thanksgiving were appointed, and Elizabeth, 
seated in a triumphal chariot and surrounded by her 
ministers and nobles, went for this purpose to St. 
Paul's Cathedral, the concourse bearing a great num- 
ber of flags that had been taken from the enemy. 



THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. 245 

The joy at the destruction of the Armada was not 
confined to England and Holland. All Europe joined 
in it. Philip's ambition, in the event of victory over 
England, might have led him to attempt the sub- 
jection of every Protestant state in Europe, while 
Catholic France, which he afterwards attempted to 
conquer, had the greatest reason to dread his success. 

Thus ended the most threatening enterprise in the 
religious wars of the sixteenth century, and to Lord 
Howard and his gallant captains England and Europe 
owe the deepest debt of gratitude, for the success of 
the Armada might have proved a calamity whose 
effects would have been felt to the present day. 



THE CAUSES OF SPAIN'S DE- 
CADENCE. 

The golden age of Spain began in 1492, in which 
year the conquest of Granada extinguished the 
Arab dominion, and the discovery of America by 
Columbus opened a new world to the enterprise of 
the Spanish cavaliers. It continued during the 
reigns of Chai'les I. and Philip II., extending over a 
period of about a century, during which Spain was 
the leading power in Euro]De. and occupied the fore- 
most position in the civilized world. In Europe its 
possessions included the Netherlands and important 
regions in Italy, while its king. Charles L, ruled as 
Charles Y. over the German empire, possessing a 
dominion in Europe only surpassed by that of Charle- 
magne. Under Philip II. Portugal became a part of 
the Spanish realm, and with it its colony of Brazil, 
so that Spain was the unquestioned owner of the 
whole continent of South America, while much of 
Xorth America lay under its flag. 

"Wealth flowed into the coff'ers of this broad king- 
dom in steady streams, the riches of America over- 
flowing its treasury ; its fleet was the greatest, its 
army the best trained and most irresistible in Eu- 
rope ; it stood as the bulwark against that mighty 
Ottoman power before which the other nations 
246 



THE CAUSES OP SPAIN'S DECADENCE. 247 

trembled, and checked its career of victory at Le- 
panto ; in short, as above said, it was for a brief 
period the leading power in Europe, and appeared to 
have in it the promise of a glorious career. 

But though the tree was so flourishing at its sum- 
mit, there was a canker at its root, the eating bane 
of superstition and bigotry, before whose insidious 
attacks the far-spreading realm was soon to shrink 
and decay, and in time to dechne into a position of 
insignificance that would have seemed incredible in 
the sixteenth century. Spain stood as the right 
hand of the Church of Eome, the bulwark against 
the growing flood of reform, and in her strenuous 
effort to suppress free thought, to make all minds 
move in the same channel, all men think alike on 
religious subjects, she at once utterly failed in her 
purpose and ruined herself in the attempt. 

Two methods were adopted in this ruinous effort, 
the one that of exile of the infidel and heretic, the 
other that of torture and execution. These were 
extraordinary methods for the propagation of re- 
ligious faith, but by them Spain succeeded in sup- 
pressing all visible heresy within her confines, and, 
in her extirpation of free thought, destroyed her- 
self. From being the strongest and most enter- 
prising nation of Europe, she sank into the position 
of one of the weakest and the least progressive of 
European kingdoms, her population decreasing 
within a century or two to nearly one-half, while 
the demon of dulness and stolid conservatism spread 
its blasting wings over the entire land. 

The first stage in this crusade of fanaticism was 



248 HISTORICAL TALES. 

the expulsion of the Jews, a people whose enter- 
prise, progress in science and the arts, and genius 
for business had been of immense value to Spain. 
Under the Goths the Hebrew race suffered pitiless 
persecution, from which they were relieved while 
the Arabs ruled in Spain. Favored by the toler- 
ant caliphs, the Jews became active agents in the 
development of civilization. But the protection 
they enjoyed under the Moslems was lost under the 
Christians, who had no sooner reconquered Spain 
than their ignorant fanaticism led them to a violent 
persecution of their Hebrew subjects, who became 
objects of scorn and hatred, and in some places were 
exposed to pitiless robbery and indiscriminate mas- 
sacre. 

Many of the unfortunate Jews, seeking to escape 
persecution, embraced Christianity. But their con- 
version was doubted, they were subjected to constant 
espionage, and the least suspicion of indulging in 
their old worship exposed them to the dangerous 
charge of heresy, a word of frightful omen in Spain. 
It was to punish these delinquent Jews that in 1480 
the Inquisition was introduced, and at once began its 
frightful work, no less than two thousand " heretics" 
being burned alive in 1481, while seventeen thou- 
sand were " reconciled," a word of mild meaning else- 
where, but which in Spain signified torture, confisca- 
tion of property, loss of citizenship, and frequently 
imprisonment for life in the dungeons of the Inqui- 
sition. Such was the frightful penalty for daring 
to think otherwise on religious subjects than the 
Church of Eome said men should and must think. 



I 



THE CAUSES OF SPAIN'S DECADENCE. 249 

The year 1492, in which Spain gained glory by 
the conquest of Granada and the discovery of 
America, brought her deep dishonor through an act 
of barbarous cruelty, the expulsion of the Jews. 
The edict for this was signed by Ferdinand and Isa- 
bella at Grranada, March 30, 1492, and decreed that 
all unbaptized Jews, without regard to sex, age, or 
condition, should leave Spain before the end of the 
next July, and never return thither under penalty 
of death and confiscation of property. Every Span- 
iard was forbidden to give aid in any form to a Jew 
after the date named. The Jews might sell their 
property and carry the proceeds with them in bills 
of exchange or merchandise, but not in gold or 
silver. 

This edict came like a thunderbolt to the Israel- 
ites. At a tyrant's word they must go forth as exiles 
from the land in which they and their forefathers 
had dwelt for ages, break all their old ties of habit 
and association, and be cast out helpless and defence- 
less, marked with a brand of infamy, among nations 
who held them in hatred and contempt. 

Under the unjust terms of the edict they were 
forced to abandon most of the property which they 
had spent their lives in gaining. It was impossible 
to sell their effects in the brief time given, in a mar- 
ket glutted with similar commodities, for more than 
a tithe of their value. As a result their hard- won 
wealth was frightfully sacrificed. One chronicler 
relates that he saw a house exchanged for an ass 
and a vineyard for a suit of clothes. In Aragon the 
property of the Jews was confiscated for the benefit 



250 HISTORICAL TALES. 

of their creditors, with little regard to its value. 
As for the bills of exchange which they were to take 
instead of gold and silver, it was impossible to ob- 
tain them to the amount required in that age of lim- 
ited commerce, and here again they were mercilessly 
robbed. 

The migration was one of the most pitiable known 
in history. As the time fixed for their departure 
approached the roads of the country swarmed with 
emigrants, young and old, strong and feeble, sick 
and well, some on horses or mules, but the great 
multitude on foot. The largest division, some eighty 
thousand in number, passed through Portugal, whose 
monarch taxed them for a free passage through his 
dominions, but, wiser than Ferdinand, permitted 
certain skilful artisans among them to settle in his 
kingdom. 

Those who reached Africa and marched towards 
Fez, where many of their race resided, were attacked 
by the desert tribes, robbed, slain, and treated with 
the most shameful barbarity. Many of them, half- 
dead with famine and in utter despair, returned 
to the coast, where they consented to be baptized 
with the hope that they might be permitted to re- 
turn to their native land. 

Those who sought Italy contracted an infectious 
disease in the crowded and filthy vessels which they 
were obliged to take ; a disorder so malignant that 
it carried off twenty thousand of the people of Naples 
during the year, and spread far over the remainder 
of Italy. As for the Jews, hosts of them perished 
of hunger and disease, and of the whole number ex- 



THE CAUSES OF SPAIN's DECADENCE. 251 

pelled, estimated at one hundred and sixty thousand, 
only a miserable fragment found homes at length 
in foreign lands, some seeking Turkey, others gain- 
ing refuge and protection in France and England. 
As for the effect of the migration on Spain it must 
suffice here to quote the remark of a monarch of 
that day: "Do they call this Ferdinand a politic 
prince, who can thus impoverish his own kingdom 
and enrich ours ?" 

The Jews of Spain thus disposed of, a similar 
policy was adopted towards the Moors. The treaty 
made with them at the time of the surrender of 
Granada was not kept. Ximenes and other bigoted 
priests attempted to convert them by force, and drove 
them into insurrection. This was suppressed, and 
then punishment began. So rigid was the inquiry 
that it seemed as if all the people of Granada would 
be condemned as guilty, and in mortal dread many 
of them made peace by embracing Christianity, while 
others sold their estates and migrated to Barbary. 
In the end, all who remained escaped persecution 
only by consenting to be baptized, the total number 
of converts being estimated at fifty thousand. The 
name of Moors, which had superseded that of Arabs, 
was now changed to that of Moriscos, by which 
these unfortunate people were afterwards known. 

The ill-faith shown to the Moors of the plain gave 
rise to an insurrection in the mountains, in which 
the Spaniards suffered a severe defeat. The insur- 
gents, however, were soon subdued, and most of 
them, to prevent being driven from their homes, 
professed the Christian faith. By the free use of 



252 HISTORICAL TALES. 

torture and the sword the kings of Spain had suc- 
ceeded in adding largely to their Christian sub- 
jects. 

The ^loriscos became the most skilful and indus- 
trious agriculturists of Spain, but the bigoted mon- 
archs, instigated by fanatical priests, would not let 
them alone. Irritating edicts were from time to 
time issued. In 1560 the Moriscos were forbidden 
to employ African slaves, for fear that they might 
make infidels of them. This was a severe annoy- 
ance, for the wealthy farmers depended on the labor 
of these slaves. In 1563 they were forbidden to 
possess arms except under license. In 1566 still 
more oppressive edicts were passed. They were no 
longer to use the Arabic language or wear the Moor- 
ish dress, and the women were required to go about 
with their faces unveiled, — a scandalous thing among 
Mohammedans. Their weddings were to be con- 
ducted in public, after the Christian forms, their na- 
tional songs and dances were interdicted, and they 
were even forbidden to indulge in warm baths, 
bathing being a custom of which the Spaniard of 
that day appears to have disapproved. 

The result of these oppressive edicts was a violent 
and dangerous insurrection, which involved nearly 
all the Moriscos of Spain, and continued for more 
than two years, requiring all the power of Spain for 
its suppression. Don John of Austria, the victor at 
Lepanto, led the Spanish troops, but he had a diflS- 
cult task, the Moriscos, sheltered in their mountain 
fastnesses, making a desperate and protracted re- 
sistance, and showing a warlike energy equal to 



THE CAUSES OP SPAIN'S DECADENCE. 253 

that which had been displayed in the defence of 
Granada. 

The end of the war was followed by a decree from 
Philip II. that all the Moors of Granada should be 
removed into the interior of the country, their lands 
and houses being forfeited, and nothing left them 
but their personal eifects. This act of confiscation 
was followed by their reduction to a state of serfdom 
in their new homes, no one being permitted to change 
his abode without permission, under a very severe 
penalty. If found within ten leagues of Granada 
they were condemned, if between the ages of ten 
and seventeen, to the galleys for life ; if older, to the 
punishment of death. 

The dispersal of the Moriscos of Granada, while 
cruel to them, proved of the greatest benefit to 
Spain. Wherever they went the effects of their 
superior skill and industry were soon manifested. 
They were skilled not only in husbandry, but in the 
mechanic arts, and their industry gave a new aspect 
of prosperity to the provinces to which they were 
banished, while the valleys and hill-sides of Granada, 
which had flourished under their cultivation, sank 
into barrenness under the unskilful hands of their 
successors. 

Enough had not yet been done to satiate Spanish 
bigotry. The Moriscos were not Spaniards, and 
could not easily become so while deprived of all 
civil rights. There was a suspicion that at heart 
they might still be Moslems. This was a possibility 
not to be endured in orthodox Spain. Under Philip 
III., a king as intolerant as his father, and, unlike 



254 HISTORICAL TALES. 

him, timid and incapable, the final act came. Under 
priestly influence he was induced to sign an edict 
for the expulsion of the Xoriscos, and this quiet 
and industrious people, a million in number, were in 
1610, like the Jews before them, forced to leave their 
homes in Spain. 

It is not necessary to repeat the story of the 
suffering which necessarily followed so barbarous an 
act. What has been said of the circumstances at- 
tending the expulsion of the Jews will suffice. 
That of the Moriscos was not so inhuman in its 
consequences, but it was serious enough. Fortu- 
nately, in view of the intense impolicy and deep in- 
tolerance indicated in the act, its evil effects reacted 
upon its advocates. To the Moriscos the suffering 
was personal ; to Spain it was national. As France 
half-ruined herself by expelling the Huguenots, the 
most industrious of her population, Spain did the 
same in expelling the Moriscos, to whose skill and 
industry she owed so much of her prosperity. So it 
ever must be when bigotry is allowed to control the 
policy of states. France recovered from the evil 
effects of her mad act. Spain never did. The ex- 
pulsion of the Moriscos was one of the most prom- 
inent causes of her decline, and no indications of a 
recovery have yet been shown. 

The expulsion of the Jews and Moriscos was not 
sufficient to satisfy the intolerant spirit of Spain. 
Heresy had made its way even into the minds of 
Spaniards. Sons of the Church themselves had 
begun to think in other lines than those laid down 
for them by the priestly guardians of their minds. 



THE CAUSES OP SPAIN'S DECADENCE. 255 

Protestant books were introduced into the ever- 
faithful land, and a considerable number of converts 
to Protestantism were made. 

Upon these heretics the Inquisition descended with 
all its frightful force. Philip, in a monstrous edict, 
condemned all to be burned alive who bought, sold, 
or read books prohibited by the Church. The re- 
sult was terrible. The land was filled with spies. 
Arrests were made on all sides. The instruments 
of torture were kept busy. In all the principal 
cities of Spain the monstrous spectacle of the auto- 
de-fe was to be seen, multitudes being burned at 
the stake for having dared to let what the priests 
deemed the venom of free thought enter their minds. 

The total effect of this horrible system of per- 
secution we can only epitomize. Thousands were 
burned at the stake, thousands imprisoned for life 
after terrible torture, thousands robbed of their 
property, and their children condemned to poverty 
and opprobrium ; and the kingdom of Christ, as the 
popes of that day estimated it, was established in 
Spain. 

The bigoted kings and fanatical ecclesiastics of 
Spain had succeeded. Heresy was blotted out from 
Spain, — and Spain was blotted out from the ranks 
of enlightened nations. Freedom of thought was at 
an end. The mind of the Spaniard was put in fet- 
ters. Spain, under the sombre shadow of the In- 
quisition, was shut out from the light which was 
breaking over the remainder of Europe. Literature 
moved in narrow channels, philosophy was checked, 
the domain of science was closed, progress was at an 



256 HISTORICAL TALES. 

end. Spain stood still while the rest of the world 
was sweeping onward ; and she stands still to-day, 
her mind in the fifteenth century. The decadence 
of Spain is due solely to religious bigotry, which 
manifested itself in the expulsion of the Jews and the 
Moriscos, the fires of the Inquisition, and that sup- 
pression of free thought which, wherever shown, is 
a fatal barrier to the progress of mankind. 



THE LAST OF A ROYAL RACE. 

The rebellion of the Moriscos, due to the oppres- 
sive edicts of Philip II., as stated in the preceding 
tale, was marked by numerous interesting events. 
Some of these are worth giving in illustration of the 
final struggle of the Moors in Spain. The insur- 
gents failed in their first effort, that of seizing the 
city of Granada, still filled with their fellow-country- 
men, and restoring as far as possible their old king- 
dom; and they afterwards confined themselves to 
the difficult passes and mountain fastnesses of the 
Sierra Nevada, where they presented a bold front to 
the power of Spain. 

Having proclaimed their independence, and cast 
off all allegiance to the crown of Spain, their first 
step was to select a new monarch of their own race. 
The man selected for this purpose was of royal blood, 
being descended in a direct line from the ancient 
family of the Omeyades, caliphs of Damascus, and 
for nearly four centuries rulers in Spain. This man, 
who bore the Castilian name of Don Fernando de 
Yalor, but was known by the Moors as Aben- 
Humeya, was at that time twenty-two years of age, 
comely in person and engaging in manners, and of a 
deportment worthy of the princely line from which 
he had descended. A man of courage and energy, 
he escaped from Granada and took refuge in the 

17 257 



258 HISTORICAL TALES. 

mountains, where he began a war to the knife 
against Spain. 

The early events of the war were unfavorable to 
the Moors. Their strongholds were invaded by a 
powerful Spanish force under the Marquis of Mon- 
dejar, and their forces soon put to flight. Aben- 
Humeya was so hotly pursued that he was forced 
to spring from his horse, cut the hamstrings of the 
animal to render it useless to his pursuers, and seek 
refuge in the depths of the sierras, where dozens 
of hiding-places unknown to his pursuers could be 
found. 

The insurrection was now in a desperate stage. 
Mondejar was driving the rebels in arms in terror 
before him ; tower and towU fell in succession into 
his hands ; everywhere his arms were victorious, 
and only one thing was wanting to bring all opposi- 
tion to an end, — the capture of Aben-Humeya, the 
"little king" of the Alpujarras. This crownless 
monarch was known to be wandering with a few 
followers in the wilds of the mountains ; but while 
he lived the insurrection might at any moment blaze 
out again, and detachments of soldiers were sent to 
pursue him through the sierras. 

The captain of one of these parties learned from 
a traitor that the fugitive prince remained hidden 
in the mountains only during the day, finding shelter 
at night in the house of a kinsman, Aben-Aboo, on 
the skirts of the sierras. Learning the situation of 
this mansion, the Spanish captain led his men with 
the greatest secrecy towards it. Travelling by night, 
they reached the vicinity of the dwelling under cover 



THE LAST OF A ROYAL RACE. 259 

of the darkness. In a minute nnore the house would 
have been surrounded and its inmates secured ; but 
at this critical moment the arquebuse of one of the 
Spaniards was accidentally discharged, the report 
echoing loudly among the hills and warning the 
lightly sleeping inmates of their danger. 

One of them, El Zaguer, the uncle of Aben- 
Humeya, at once sprang up and leaped from the 
window of his room, making his way with all haste 
to the mountains. His nephew was not so fortunate. 
Running to his window, in the front of the house, he 
saw the ground occupied by troops. He hastily 
sought another window, but his foes were there be- 
fore him. Bewildered and distressed, he knew not 
where to turn. The house was surrounded ; the 
Spaniards were thundering on the door for admit- 
tance ; he was like a wolf caught in its lair, and with 
as little mercy to hope from his captors. 

By good fortune the door was well secured. One 
possible chance for safety occurred to the hunted 
prince. Hastening down-stairs, he stood behind the 
portal and noiselessly drew its bolts. The Spaniards, 
finding the door give way, and supposing that it had 
yielded to their blows, rushed hastily in and hurried 
through the house in search of the fugitive who was 
hidden behind the door. The instant they bad all 
passed he slipped out, and, concealed by the darkness 
outside, hastened away, soon finding a secure refuge 
in the mountains. 

Aben-Aboo remained in the hands of the assail- 
lants, who vainly questioned him as to the haunts 
of his kinsmen. On his refusal to answer they em- 



260 HISTORICAL TALES. 

ployed torture, but with no better effect. " I may 
die," he courageously said, " but my friends will live." 
So severe and cruel was their treatment, that in the 
end they left him for dead, returning to camp with 
the other prisoners they had taken. As it proved, 
however, the heroic Aben-Aboo did not die, but lived 
to play a leading part in the war. 

With kindly treatment of the Moriscos he would 
probably have given no more trouble, but the Span- 
ish proved utterly merciless, their soldiers raging 
through the mountains, and committing the foulest 
acts of outrage and rapine. In Granada a frightful 
deed was committed. A large number of the leading 
Moriscos, about one hundred and fifty in all, had been 
seized and imprisoned, being held as hostages for the 
good behavior of their friends. Here, on a night in 
March, the prison was entered by a body of Spaniards, 
who assailed the unfortunate captives, arms in hand, 
and began an indiscriminate massacre. The prison- 
ers seizing what means of defence they could find, 
fought desperately for their Hves, and for two hours 
the unequal combat continued, not ending while a 
Morisco remained alive. 

This frightful affair, hardly surpassed by the similar 
massacre of prisoners during the French, revolution, 
and here sanctioned by the government, had its natu- 
ral effect. The Moriscos were soon in arms again, 
Aben-Humeya at their head, and the war blazed 
throughout the length and breadth of the mountains. 
Even from Barbary came a considerable body of 
Moors, who entered the service of the Morisco chief. 
Fierce and intrepid, trained to the military career, 



THE LAST OF A ROYAL RACE. 261 

and accustomed to a life of wild adventure, these 
were a most valuable reinforcement to Aben-Hu- 
meya's forces, and enabled him to carry on a guerilla 
warfare which proved highly vexatious to the troops 
of Spain. He made forays from the mountains into 
the plain, penetrating into the vega and boldly 
venturing even to the walls of Granada. The insur- 
rection spread far and wide through the Sierra 
Nevada, and the Spanish army, now led by Don John 
of Austria, the king's brother, found itself confronted 
by a most serious task. 

The weak point in the organization of the Mo- 
riscos lay in the character of their king. Aben- 
Humeya, at first popular, soon displayed traits of 
character which lost him the support of his followers. 
Surrounded by a strong body-guard, he led a volup- 
tuous life, and struck down without mercy those 
whom he feared, no less than three hundred and fifty 
persons falling victims to his jealousy or revenge. 
His cruelty and injustice at length led to a plot for 
his death, and his brief reign ended in assassination, 
his kinsman, Aben-Aboo, being chosen as his suc- 
cessor. 

The new king was a very different man from his 
slain predecessor. He was much the older of the 
two, a man of high integrity and great decorum of 
character. While lacking the dash and love of ad- 
venture of Aben-Humeya, he had superior judg- 
ment in military affairs, and full courage in carrying 
out his plans. His election was confirmed from 
Algiers, a large quantity of arms and ammunition 
was imported from Barbary, reinforcements crossed 



262 HISTORICAL TALES. 

the Mediterranean, and the new king began his reign 
under excellent auspices, his first movement being 
against Orgiba, a fortified place on the road to 
Granada, which he invested in October with an army 
of ten thousand men. 

The capture of this place, which soon followed, 
roused the enthusiasm of the Moriscos to the highest 
pitch. From all sides the warlike peasantry flocked 
to the standard of their able chief, and a war began 
resembling that of a century before, when the forces 
of Ferdinand and Isabella were invading the King- 
dom of Granada. From peak to peak of the sierras 
beacon-fires flashed their signals, calling the bold 
mountaineers to forays on the lands of the enemy. 
Pouring suddenly down on the lower levels, the 
daring marauders swept away in triumph to the 
mountains the flocks and herds of their Christian 
foes. The vega of Granada became, as in ancient 
times, the battle-ground of Moorish and Christian 
cavaliers, the latter having generally the advantage, 
though occasionally the insurgent bands would break 
into the suburbs, or even the city of Granada, filling 
its people with consternation, and causing the great 
bell of the Alhambra to peal out its tocsin of alarm 
and call the Spanish chivalry in haste to the fray. 

"We cannot describe, even in epitome, the varied 
course of this sanguinary war. As might well have 
been expected, the greater force of the Spaniards 
gradually prevailed, and the autumn of 1570 found 
the insurgents almost everywhere subdued. Only 
Aben-Aboo, the " little king," remained in arms, a 
force of four hundred men being all that were left 



THE LAST OP A ROYAL RACE. 263 

to him of his recent army. But these were men 
warmly devoted to him, and until the spring of 1571 
every effort for his capture proved in vain. Hiding 
in mountain caves and in inaccessible districts, he 
defied pursuit, and in a measure kept alive the flame 
of rebellion. 

Treason at length brought his career to an end. 
One of the few insurgent prisoners who escaped 
death at the hands of the Spanish executioners re- 
vealed the hiding-place of the fugitive king, and 
named the two persons on whom Aben-Aboo most 
relied, his secretary, Abou Amer, and a Moorish cap- 
tain named El Senix. 

An effort was made to win over the secretary by 
one who had formerly known him, a letter being 
gent him which roused him to intense indignation. 
El Senix, however, becoming aware of its contents, 
and having a private grudge against his master, sent 
word by the messenger that he would undertake, for 
a suitable recompense, to betray him to the Chris- 
tians. 

An interview soon after took place between the 
Moor and Barredo, the Spanish agent, some inti- 
mation of which came to the ears of Aben-Aboo. 
The king at once sought a cavern in the neighbor- 
hood where El Senix was secreted, and, leaving his 
followers outside, imprudently entered alone. He 
found El Senix surrounded by several of his friends, 
and sternly demanded of him the purpose of his 
interview with Barredo. Senix, confused by the 
accusation, faltered out that he had simply been 
seeking to obtain an amnesty for him. Aben-Aboo 



264 HISTORICAL TALES. 

listened with a face of scorn, and, turning on his 
heel with the word '^ treachery," walked back to the 
mouth of the cave. 

Unluckily, his men, with the exception of two 
guards stationed at the entrance, had left the spot to 
visit some near-by friends. Senix, perceiving that 
his own life was in danger, and that this was his 
only opportunity for safety, fell with his followers 
on the guards, one of whom was killed and the other 
put to flight. Then an attack was made on Aben- 
Aboo. The latter defended himself desperately, 
but the odds were too great, and the dastardly El 
Senix ended the struggle by felling him with the 
but-end of his musket, when he was quickly de- 
spatched. 

Thus died the last of the Omeyades, the famous 
dynasty of Arabian caliphs founded in 660, and es- 
tablished in Spain in 756. Aben-Aboo, the last of 
this royal race, was given in death a triumphal en- 
trance to Granada, as if he were one whom the Span- 
iards delighted to honor. The corpse was set astride 
on a mule, being supported by a wooden frame, 
which lay hidden beneath flowing robes. On one 
side rode Barredo ; on the other the murderer El 
Senix bore the scimitar and arquebuse of the dead 
prince. The kinsmen and friends of the Morisco 
chief rode in his train, and after them came a regi- 
ment of infantry and a troop of horse. 

As the procession moved along the street of Za- 
catin salvos of musketry saluted it, peals of artillery 
roared from the towers of the Alhambra, and the 
multitude thronged to gaze with silent curiosity on 



THE LAST OF A ROYAL RACE. 265 

the ghastly face. Thus the cavalcade proceeded 
until the great square of Yivarambla was reached. 
Here were assembled the principal cavaliers and 
magistrates of the city, and here El Senix dis- 
mounted and delivered to Deza, the president of the 
tribunal before which were tried the insurgent cap- 
tives, the arms of the murdered prince. 

And now this semblance of respect to a brave 
enemy was followed by a scene of barbarity worthy 
of the Spain of that day. The ceremony of a 
public execution was gone through with, the head 
of the corpse being struck off, after which the body 
was given to the boys of Granada, who dragged 
it through the streets and exposed it to every in- 
dignity, finally committing it to the flames. The 
head, enclosed in a cage, was set over the gate that 
faced towards the Alpujarras. There it remained 
for a year, seeming to gaze towards the hills which 
the Morisco chief had loved so well, and which had 
witnessed his brief and disastrous reign. 

Such was the fate of Aben-Aboo, the last of a line 
of great monarchs, and one of the best of them all ; 
a man of lofty spirit, temperate appetites, and cour- 
ageous endurance, who, had he lived in more pros- 
perous days, might have ruled in the royal halls of 
Cordova with a renown equal to that of the most 
famous caliph of his race. 



HENRY MORGAN AND THE BUC- 
CANEERS. 

As the seventeenth century passed on, Spain, under 
the influence of religious intolerance and bad gov- 
ernment, grew weak, both at home and abroad. Its 
prominent place in Europe was lost. Its vast colo- 
nial provinces in America were scenes of persecution 
and anarchy. There the fortresses were allowed to 
decay, the soldiers, half-clothed and unpaid, to be- 
come beggars or bandits, the treasures to be pilfered, 
and commerce to become a system of fraud ; while 
the colonists were driven to detest their mother land. 
This weakness was followed by dire consequences. 
Bands of outcasts from various nations, who had 
settled on Spanish territory in the West Indies, at 
first to forage on the cattle of Hispaniola, organized 
into pirate crews, and, under the name of buccaneers, 
became frightful scourges of the commerce of Spain. 

These wretches, mainly French, English, and 
Dutch, deserters and outlaws, the scum of their na- 
tions, made the rich merchant and treasure ships of 
Spain their prey, slaughtering their crews, torturing 
them for hidden wealth, rioting with profuse prodi- 
gality at their lurking-places on land, and turning 
those fair tropical islands into a pandemonium of 
outrage, crime, and slaughter. As they troubled 
266 



HENRY MORGAN AND THE BUCCANEERS. 267 

little the ships of other nations, these nations rather 
favored than sought to suppress them, and Spain 
seemed powerless to bring their ravages to an end. 
In consequence, as the years went on, they grew 
bolder and more adventurous. Beginning with a 
few small, deckless sloops, they in time gained large 
and well-armed vessels, and created so deep a terror 
among the Spaniards by their savage attacks that 
the latter rarely made a strong resistance. 

Lurking in forest-hidden creeks and inlets of the 
West India islands, they kept a keen lookout for the 
ships that bore to Spain the gold, silver, precious 
stones, and rich products of the New World, pur- 
sued them in their swift barks, boarded them, and 
killed all who ventured to resist. If the cargo was 
a rich one, and there had been little effort at defence, 
the prisoners might be spared their lives ; if other- 
wise, they were flung mercilessly into the sea. Sail- 
ing then to their place of rendezvous, the captors in- 
dulged in the wildest and most luxurious orgies, their 
tables groaning with strong liquors and rich pro- 
visions ; gaming, music, and dancing succeeding ; 
extravagance, debauchery, and profusion of every 
kind soon dissipating their blood-bought wealth. 

Among the pirate leaders several gained promi- 
nence for superior boldness or cruelty, among whom 
we may particularly name L'Olonnois, a French- 
man, of such savage ferocity that all mariners of 
Spanish birth shuddered with fear at his very name. 
This wretch suffered the fate he deserved. In an 
expedition to the Isthmus of Darien he was taken 
prisoner by a band of savage Indians, who tore him 



268 HISTORICAL TALES. 

to pieces alive, flung his quivering limbs into the 
fire, and then scattered the ashes to the air. 

Most renowned of all the buccaneers was Henry 
Morgan, a native of Wales, who ran away from home 
as a boy, was sold as a slave in Barbadoes, and after- 
wards joined a pirate crew, in time becoming a leader 
among the lawless hordes. By this time the raids 
of the ferocious buccaneers had almost put an end 
to Spanish commerce with the New World, and the 
daring freebooters, finding their gains at sea falling 
ofi", collected fleets and made attacks on land, plun- 
dering rich towns and laying waste thriving settle- 
ments. So greatly had Spanish courage degenerated 
that the pirates with ease put to flight ten times 
their number of that Spanish soldiery which, a cen- 
tury before, had been the finest in the world. 

The first pirate to make such a raid was Lewis 
Scott, who sacked the town of Campeachy, robbing 
it of all its wealth, and forcing its inhabitants to 
pay an enormous ransom. Another named Davies 
marched inland to Nicaragua, took and plundered 
that town, and carried off" a rich booty in silver and 
precious stones. He afterwards pillaged the city of 
St. Augustine, Florida. Others performed similar 
exploits, but we must confine our attention to the 
deeds of Morgan, the boldest and most successful of 
them all. 

Morgan's first enterprise was directed against Port 
au Prince, Cuba, where, however, the Spaniards had 
received warning and concealed their treasures, so 
that the buccaneer gained little for his pains. His 
next expedition was against Porto Bello, on the 



HENRY MORGAN AND THE BUCCANEERS. 269 

Isthmus, one of the richest and best fortified of 
American cities. Two castles, believed to be im- 
pregnable, commanded the entrances to the har- 
bor. When the freebooters learned that their leader 
proposed to attack so strong a place as this the 
hearts of the boldest among them shrank. But 
Morgan, with a few inspiring words, restored their 
courage. 

" What boots it," he exclaimed, " how small our 
number, if our hearts be great ! The fewer we are 
the closer will be our union and the larger our shares 
of plunder." 

Boldness and secrecy carried the day. One of the 
castles was taken by surprise, the first knowledge 
of the attack coming to the people of the town from 
the concussion when Morgan blew it up. Before the 
garrison or the citizens could prepare to oppose them 
the freebooters were in the town. The governor 
and garrison fled in panic haste to the other castle, 
while the terrified people threw their treasures into 
wells and cisterns. The castle made a gallant re- 
sistance, but was soon obliged to yield to the im- 
petuous attacks of the pirate crews. 

It was no light exploit which Morgan had per- 
formed, — to take with five hundred men a fortified 
city with a large garrison and strengthened by nat- 
ural obstacles to assault. The ablest general in or- 
dinary war might well have claimed renown for so 
signal a victory. But the ability of the leader was 
tarnished by the cruelty of the buccaneer. The peo- 
ple were treated with shocking barbarity, many of 
them being shut up in convents and churches and 



270 HISTORICAL TALES. 

burned alive, while the pirates gave themselves up 
to every excess of debauchery. 

The great booty gained by this raid caused nu- 
merous pirate captains to enlist under Morgan's flag, 
and other towns were taken, in which similar orgies 
of cruelty and debauchery followed. But the im- 
punity of the buccaneers was nearing its end. Their 
atrocious acts had at length aroused the indignation 
of the civilized world, and a treaty was concluded 
between Great Britain and Spain whose chief pur- 
pose was to put an end to these sanguinary and 
ferocious deeds. 

The first effect of this treaty was to spur the buc- 
caneers to the performance of some exploit surpassing 
any they had yet achieved. So high was Morgan's 
reputation among the pirates that they flocked from 
all quarters to enlist under his flag, and he soon had 
a fleet of no fewer than thirty-seven vessels manned 
by two thousand men. With so large a force an ex- 
pedition on a greater scale could well be undertaken, 
and a counsel of the chiefs debated whether they 
should make an assault upon Yera Cruz, Carthagena, 
or Panama. Their choice fell upon Panama, as the 
richest of the three. 

The city of Panama at that time (1670) was con- 
sidered one of the greatest and most opulent in 
America. It contained two thousand large buildings 
and five thousand smaller, all of which were three 
stories high. Many of these were built of stone, 
others of cedar wood, being elegantly constructed 
and richly furnished. The city was the emporium 
for the silver- and gold-mines of New Spain, and its 



HENRY MORGAN AND THE BUCCANEERS. 271 

merchants lived in great opulence, their houses rich 
in articles of gold and silver, adorned with beautiful 
paintings and other works of art, and full of the 
luxuries of the age. The churches were magnificent 
in their decorations, and richly embellished with or- 
naments in gold and silver. The city presented such 
a prize to cupidity as freebooters and bandits had 
rarely conceived of in their wildest dreams. 

The daring enterprise began with the capture by 
four hundred men of the Fort of St. Laurence, at 
the mouth of the Chagres Eiver. Up this serpentine 
stream sailed the freebooters, as far as it would bear 
them, and thence they marched overland, suffering 
the greatest hardships and overcoming difficulties 
which would have deterred men of less intrepid 
spirit. Eight days of this terrible march brought 
the adventurers within sight of the far-spreading 
Pacific, and of the spires of the coveted city on its 
shores. 

The people of Panama had been apprised of what 
was in store for them, and had laid ambuscades for 
the buccaneers, but Morgan, by taking an indirect 
route to the town, avoided these. Panama was but 
partly fortified. In several quarters it lay open to 
attack. It must be fought for and won or lost on 
the open plain. Here the Spaniards had assembled 
to the number of two thousand infantry and four 
hundred cavalry, well equipped and possessing every- 
thing needed but spirit to meet the dreaded foe. 
They had adopted an expedient sure to prove a 
dangerous one. A herd of wild bulls, to the number 
of more than two thousand, was provided, with In- 



272 HISTORICAL TALES. 

dians and negroes to drive them on the pirate horde. 
The result resembled that in which the Greeks drove 
elephants upon the Eoman legions. Many of the 
buccaneers were accustomed to the chase of wild 
cattle, and, by shouts and the waving of colored 
flags, turned the bulls back upon the Spanish lines, 
which they threw into disorder. 

The buccaneers followed with an impetuous charge 
which broke the ranks of the defenders of the 
town, who, after a two hours' combat, were com- 
pletely routed, the most of them being killed or 
taken prisoners. The assault was now directed upon 
the town, which was strongly defended, the pirates 
being twice repulsed and suffering much from the 
numerous Spanish guns. But after a three hours' 
fight they overcame all opposition and the city fell 
into their hands. 

A scene of frightful bloodshed and inhumanity 
followed. The buccaneers gave no quarter, killing 
all they met. Lest they should be exposed to a 
counter assault while intoxicated, Morgan called 
them together and forbade them to taste the wine 
of the town, saying that it had been poisoned. 
Conflagration followed massacre. Fires broke out 
in several quarters of the city, and great numbers 
of dwellings, with churches, convents, and numerous 
warehouses filled with valuable goods were reduced 
to ashes. These fires continued to burn during 
most of the month in which the freebooters held the 
city, and in which they indulged to the full in their 
accustomed cruelty, rapacity, and licentiousness. 

Treasure was found in great quantities in the wells 



HENRY MORGAN AND THE BUCCANEERS. 273 

and caves, where it had been thrown by the terrified 
people. The vessels taken in the harbor yielded 
valuable commodities. Detachments were sent into 
the country to capture and bring back those who 
had fled for safety, and by torturing these several 
rich deposits of treasure were discovered in the sur- 
rounding forests. A few of the inhabitants escaped 
with their wealth by sea, seeking shelter in the 
islands of the bay, and a galleon laden with the 
king's plate and jewels and other precious articles 
belonging to the church and the people narrowly 
escaped after a hot chase by the buccaneers. With 
these exceptions the rich city was completely looted. 

After a month spent among the ruins of Panama 
Morgan and his villanous followers departed, one 
hundred and seventy-five mules carrying their more 
bulky spoil, while with them were six hundred pris- 
oners, some carrying burdens, others held to ran- 
som. Thus laden, they reached again the mouth of 
the Chagres, where their ships awaited them and 
where a division of the spoil was to be made. 

Treachery followed this stupendous act of piracy, 
Morgan's later history being an extraordinary one 
for a man of his infamous record. He was possessed 
with the demon of cupidity, and a quarrel arose be- 
tween him and his men concerning the division of 
the spoil. Morgan ended it by running off with the 
disputed plunder. On the night preceding the final 
division, during the hours of deepest slumber, the 
treacherous chief, with a few of his confidants, set 
sail for Jamaica, in a vessel deeply laden with spoils. 
On waking and learning this act of base treachery, 

18 



274 HISTORICAL TALES. 

the infuriated pirates pursued him, but in vain ; he 
safely reached Jamaica with his ill-gotten wealth. 

In this English island the pirate chief gained not 
only safety, but honors. In some way he won the 
favor of Charles II., who knighted him as Sir Henry 
Morgan and placed him on the admiralty court in 
Jamaica. He subsequently, for a time, acted as 
deputy governor, and in this office displayed the 
greatest severity towards his old associates, several 
of whom were tried before him and executed. One 
whole crew of buccaneers were sent by him to the 
Spaniards at Carthagena, in whose hands they were 
likely to find little favor. He was subsequently ar- 
rested, sent to England, and imprisoned for three 
years under charges from Spain ; but this was the 
sole punishment dealt out to the most notorious of 
the buccaneers. 

The success of Morgan's enterprise stimulated the 
piratical crews to similar deeds of daring, and the 
depredations continued, not only in the TVest Indies 
and eastern South America, but afterwards along the 
Pacific, the cities of Leon, in Mexico, New Granada, 
on the lake of Nicaragua, and Guayaquil, the port 
of Quito, being taken, sacked, and burned. Finally, 
France and England joined Spain in efforts for their 
suppression, the coasts were more strictly guarded, 
and many of the freebooters settled as planters or 
became mariners in honest trade. Some of them, 
however, continued in their old courses, dispersing 
over all seas as enemies of the shipping of the world ; 
but by the year 1700 their career had fairly come to 
an end, and the race of buccaneers ceased to exist. 



ELIZABETH FARNESE AND AL- 
BERONI. 

In 1714 certain events took place in Spain of suf- 
ficient interest to be worth the telling. Philip V., 
a feeble monarch, like all those for the century pre- 
ceding him, was on the throne. In his youth he 
had been the Duke of Anjou, grandson of Louis XIY. 
of France, and upon the death of that great monarch 
would be close in the succession to the throne of that 
kingdom. But, chosen as king of Spain by the will 
of Charles II., he preferred a sure seat to a doubtful 
one, and renounced his claim to the French crown, 
thus bringing to an end the fierce " War of the Suc- 
cession," which had involved most of the powers of 
Europe for many years. 

Philip, by nature weak and yielding, became in 
time a confirmed hypochondriac, and on the death 
of his wife, Maria Louise, in 1714, abandoned him- 
self to grief, refusing to attend to business of any 
kind, shutting himself up in the strictest seclusion, 
and leaving the afi'airs of the kingdom practically in 
the hands of the Princess Orsini, the governess of 
his children, and his chief adviser. 

Sorrow-stricken as was the bereaved king, affairs 
were already in train to provide him with a new 
wife, a plan being laid for that purpose at the very 

275 



276 HISTORICAL TALES. 

funeral of his queen between the ambitious Princess 
Orsini and a cunning Italian named Alberoni, while 
they, with a show of grave decorum, followed Maria 
Louise to the grave. 

The story of Alberoni is an interesting one. This 
man, destined to become prime minister of Spain, 
began life as the son of a gardener in the duchy of 
Parma. While a youth he showed such powers of 
intellect that the Jesuits took him into their seminary 
and gave him an education far superior to his station. 
He assumed holy orders and, by a combination of 
knowledge and ability with adulation and buffoonery 
of a shameless character, made his way until he re- 
ceived the appointment of interpreter to the Bishop 
of St. Domino, who was about to set out on a mis- 
sion from the Duke of Parma to the Duke of Yen- 
dome, then commander of the French forces in Italy. 

The worthy bishop soon grew thoroughly dis- 
gusted with Yendome, who, high as he was in sta- 
tion, displayed a shameless grossness of manner 
which was more than the pious churchman could 
endure. The conduct of the affair was therefore left 
to the interpreter, whose delicacy was not disturbed 
by the duke's behavior, and who managed to ingra- 
tiate himself fully in the good graces of the French 
general, becoming so great a favorite that in the end 
he left the service of the Duke of Parma for that of 
Yendome. 

Subsequently the duke was appointed to a com- 
mand in Spain, where he employed Alberoni in all 
his negotiations with the court of Madrid. Here the 
wily and unscrupulous Italian won the favor of the 



ELIZABETH FARNESE AND ALBERONI. 277 

Princess Orsini so fully that when, on Vendome's 
death, he returned home, the Duke of Parma sent 
him as his envoy to Spain. 

The princess little dreamed the character of the 
man whom she had taken into confidential relations, 
and who was plotting to overthrow her influence at 
court. As the funeral procession of Maria Louise 
moved slowly onward, the princess spoke to Alberoni 
of the urgent necessity of finding another bride for 
the disconsolate king. The shrewd Italian named 
several eligible princesses, each of whom he dismissed 
as objectionable for one reason or another. At the 
end he adroitly introduced the name of Elizabeth 
Farnese, step-daughter of the Duke of Parma, of 
whom he spoke carelessly as a good girl, fattened 
on Parmesan cheese and butter, and so narrowly 
educated that she had not an idea beyond her em- 
broidery. She might succeed, he hinted, to the 
throne of Parma, as the duke had no child of his 
own, in which case there would be a chance for 
Spain to regain her lost provinces in Italy. 

The deluded Princess Orsini was delighted with 
the suggestion. With such a girl as this for queen 
she could continue to hold the reins of state.* She 
easily induced Philip to approve the choice ; the 
Duke of Parma was charmed with the offer ; and 
the preliminary steps to the marriage were hurried 
through with all possible rapidity. 

Before the final conclusion of the affair, however, 
the Princess Orsini discovered in some way that 
Alberoni had lied, and that the proposed bride was 
by no means the ignorant and incapable country 



278 HISTORICAL TALES. 

girl she had been told. Furious at the deception, 
she at once sent off a courier with orders to stop all 
further proceedings relating to the marriage. The 
messenger reached Parma in the morning of the day 
on which the marriage ceremony was to be performed 
by proxy. But Alberoni was wide awake to the 
danger, and managed to have the messenger de- 
tained until it was too late. Before he could deliver 
his despatches Elizabeth Farnese was the legal wife 
of Philip of Spain. 

The new queen had been fully advised of the state 
of affairs by Alberoni. The Princess Orsini, to whom 
she owed her elevation, was to be got rid of, at once 
and permanently. On crossing the frontiers she 
was met by all her household except the princess, 
who was with the king, then on his way to meet and 
espouse his bride. At Alcala the princess left him 
and hastened to meet the queen, reaching the village 
of Xadraca in time to receive her as she alighted 
from her carriage, kiss her hand, and in virtue 
of her office at court to conduct her to her apart- 
ment. 

Elizabeth met the princess with a show of gracious- 
ness, but on entering her chamber suddenly turned 
and accused her visitor of insulting her by lack of 
respect, and by appearing before her in improper 
attire. The amazed princess, overwhelmed by this 
accusation, apologized and remonstrated, but the 
queen refused to listen to her, ordered her from the 
room, and bade the officer of the guard to arrest and 
convey her beyond the frontier. 

Here was a change in the situation ! The officer 



ELIZABETH FARNESE AND ALBERONI. 279 

hesitated to arrest one who for years had been su- 
preme in Spain. 

" Were you not instructed to obey me implicitly ?" 
demanded Elizabeth. 

" Yes, your majesty." 

"Then do as I have ordered. I assume all re- 
sponsibility." 

" Will your majesty give me a written sanction ?" 

" Yes," said Elizabeth, in a tone very different from 
that of the bread-and-butter miss whom Alberoni 
had represented her. 

Calling for pen, ink, and paper, she wrote upon 
her knee an order for the princess's arrest, and bade 
the hesitating officer to execute it at once. 

He dared no longer object. The princess, in court 
dress, was hurried into a carriage, with a single 
female attendant and two officers, being allowed 
neither a change of clothing, protection against the 
cold, nor money to procure needed conveniences on 
the road. In this way a woman of over sixty years 
of age, whose will a few hours before had been ab- 
solute in Spain, was forced to travel throughout an 
inclement winter night, and continue her journey 
until she was thrust beyond the limits of Spain, 
within which she was never again permitted to set 
foot. 

Such was the first act of the docile girl whom the 
ambitious princess had fully expected to use as a tool 
for her designs. Schooled by the scheming Italian, 
and perhaps sanctioned by Philip, who may have 
wished to get rid of his old favorite, Elizabeth at 
the start showed a grasp of the situation which she 



280 HISTORICAL TALES. 

was destined to keep until the end. The feeble- 
minded monarch at once fell under her influence, 
and soon all the affairs of the kingdom became sub- 
ject to her control. 

Elizabeth was a woman of restless ambition and 
impetuous temper, and she managed throughout 
Philip's reign to keep the kingdom in constant hot 
water. The objects she kept in view were two: first, 
to secure to Philip the reversion of the French crown 
in case of the death of the then Duke of Anjou, 
despite the fact that he had taken frequent oaths of 
renunciation ; second, to secure for her own children 
sovereign rule in Italy. 

We cannot detail the long story of the intrigues 
by which the ambitious woman sought to bring about 
these purposes, but in all of them she found an able 
ally in Alberoni. Elizabeth did not forget that she 
owed her high position to this man. They were, 
besides, congenial in disposition, and she persuaded 
Philip to trust and consult him, and finally to appoint 
him prime minister. Not satisfied with this reward 
to her favorite, she, after a few years, induced the 
Pope to grant him a cardinal's hat and Philip to 
make him a grandee of Spain. The gardener's son 
had, by ability and unscrupulousness, reached the 
highest summit to which his ambition could aspire. 

From the greatest height one may make the most 
rapid fall. The power of Alberoni was destined 
quickly to reach its end. Yet it was less his own 
fault than the ambition of the queen that led to the 
termination of his career. As a prime minister he 
proved a marked success, giving Spain an adminis- 



ELIZABETH FARNESE AND ALBERONI. 281 

tration far superior to any she had enjoyed for many 
years. Alberoni was a man of great ability, which 
he employed in zealous efforts to improve the in- 
ternal condition of the country, having the wisdom 
to avail himself of the talents and knowledge of 
other able men in handling those departments of 
government with which he was unfamiliar. He 
seemed inclined to keep Spain at peace, at least until 
she had regained some of her old power and energy ; 
but the demands of the queen overcame his reluc- 
tance, and in the end he entered upon the accom- 
plishment of her purposes with a daring and reck- 
lessness in full accordance with the demands of her 
restless spirit of intrigue. 

Louis Xiy. died in 1715. Louis XY., his heir, 
was a sickly child, not yet five years old. Philip 
would have been regent during his youth, and his 
heir in case of his death, had he not renounced all 
claim to the French throne. He was too weak and 
irresolute in himself to take any steps to gain this 
position, but his wife spurred him on to ambitious 
designs, and Alberoni entered eagerly into her pro- 
jects, beginning a series of intrigues in France with 
all who were opposed to the Duke of Orleans, the 
existing regent. 

These intrigues led to war. The duke concluded 
an alliance with England and Germany, the former 
enemies of France. Philip, exasperated at seeing 
himself thus thwarted, declared war against the 
German emperor, despite all that Alberoni could do 
to prevent, and sent an expedition against Sardinia, 
which captured that island. Sicily was also invaded. 



282 HISTORICAL TALES. 

Alberoni now entered into intrigues for the restora- 
tion of the banished Stuarts to the English throne, 
and took part in a conspiracy in France to seize the 
Duke of Orleans and appoint Philip to the regency. 

Both these plots failed, the war became general, 
Philip found his armies beaten, and Alberoni was 
forced to treat for peace. The Spanish minister 
had made bitter enemies of George I. of England 
and the Duke of Orleans, who, claiming that he was 
responsible for disturbing the peace of Europe, de- 
manded his dismissal as a preliminary to peace. 
His failure had lost him influence with the king, but 
the queen, the real power behind the throne, sup- 
ported him, and it was only by promises of the ene- 
mies of Alberoni to aid her views for the establish- 
ment of her children that she was induced to yield 
consent to his overthrow. 

On the 4th of December, 1719, Alberoni spent the 
evening transacting affairs of state with the king 
and queen. Up to that time he remained in full 
favor and authority, however he may have sus- 
pected the intrigues for his overthrow. Their 
majesties that night left Madrid for their country 
palace at Pardo, and from there was sent a decree 
by the hands of a secretary of state, to the all- 
powerful minister, depriving him of all his offices, 
and bidding him to quit Madrid within eight days 
and Spain within three weeks. 

Alberoni had long been hated by the people of 
Spain, and detested by the grandees, who could not 
be reconciled to the supremacy of a foreigner and 
his appointment to equality with them in rank. But 



ELIZABETH FARNESE AND ALBERONI. 283 

this sudden dismissal seemed to change their senti- 
ments, and rouse them to realization of the fact 
that Spain was losing its ablest man. Nobles and 
clergy flocked to his house in such numbers that the 
king became alarmed at this sudden popularity, and 
ordered him to shorten the time of his departure. 

Alberoni sought refuge in Rome, but here the 
enmity of France and England pursued him, and 
Philip accused him of misdemeanors in office, for 
which he demanded a trial by the Pope and cardinals. 
Before these judges the disgraced minister defended 
himself so ably that the court brought the investi- 
gation to a sudden end by ordering him to retire to 
a monastery for three years. 

This period the favor of the Pope reduced to one 
year, and his chief enemy, the regent of France, 
soon after dying, he was permitted to leave the 
monastery and pass the remainder of his life free 
from persecution. His career was a singular one, 
considering the lowness of his origin, and showed 
what ability and shrewdness may accomplish even 
against the greatest obstacles of fortune. 



THE ROCK OF GIBRALTAR. 

The great Mediterranean Sea has its gate-way, 
nine miles wide, opening into the Atlantic, the gate- 
posts being the headland of Ceuta, on the African 
coast, and the famous rock of Gibraltar, in southwest- 
ern Spain, two natural fortresses facing each other 
across the sea. It is a singular fact that the African 
headland is held by Spain, and the Spanish headland 
by Great Britain, — this being a result of the wars 
of the eighteenth century. Gibraltar, in fact, has 
had a striking history, one worth the telling. 

This towering mass of rock rises in solitary gran- 
deur at the extremity of a sandy level, reaching 
upward to a height of fourteen hundred and eight 
feet, while it is three miles long and three-fourths 
of a mile in average width. It forms a stronghold 
of nature which attracted attention at an early date. 
To the Greeks it was one of the Pillars of Hercules, 
— Abyla (now Ceuta) being the other, — and formed 
the supposed western boundary of the world. Tarik, 
the Arab, landed here in 711, fortiSed the rock, and 
made it his base of operations against Gothic Spain. 
From him it received its name, Gebel el Tarik (Hill 
of Tarik), now corrupted into Gibraltar. For seven 
centuries it remained in Moorish hands, except for a 
short interval after 1302, when it was taken by Fer- 
dinand II. of Castile. The king of Granada soon 
284 



THE ROCK OF GIBRALTAR. 285 

recaptured it; from him it was taken by treachery 
by the king of Fez in 1333 ; Alfonso XI. of Castile 
vigorously besieged it, but in vain ; the king of 
Granada mastered it again in 1410 ; and it finally 
fell into the hands of Spain in 1462. 

A formidable attempt was made by the Moors for 
its recovery in 1540, it being vigorously attacked by 
the pirates of Algiers, who fought fiercely to win the 
rock, but were finally repulsed. 

For the next event in the history of this much- 
coveted rock we must go on to the year 1704, when 
the celebrated war of the Succession was in full 
play. Louis XIY. of France supported his grand- 
son Philip V. as the successor to the throne of 
SjDain. The Archduke Charles of Austria was sup- 
ported by England, Portugal, and Holland, and was 
conveyed to the Peninsula and landed at Lisbon by 
an English fleet under Admiral Rorke. The admiral, 
having disposed of the would-be king, sailed for Bar- 
celona, which he was told was a ripe plum, ready to 
fall into his mouth. He was disappointed ; Barcelona 
was by no means ripe for his purposes, and he sailed 
back, ready for any enterprise that might offer itself. 

Soon before him towered the rock of Gibraltar, 
a handsome prize if it could be captured, and poorly 
defended, as he knew. The Spaniards, trusting, as 
it seems, in the natural strength of the place, which 
they deemed impregnable, had left it with a very 
small supply of artillery and ammunition, and with 
almost no garrison. Here was a promising oppor- 
tunity for the disappointed admiral and his associate, 
the prince of Hesse Darmstadt, who headed the 



286 HISTORICAL TALES. 

foreign troops. A landing was made, siege lines 
were opened, batteries were erected, and a hot bom- 
bardment began, to which the feeble garrison could 
make but a weak reply. But the most effective 
work was done by a body of soldiers, who scrambled 
up a part of the rock that no one dreamed could be 
ascended, and appeared above the works, filling with 
terror the hearts of the garrison. 

Two days answered for the enterprise. At the 
end of that time the governor, Don Diego de Salmas, 
capitulated, and Gibraltar was taken possession of 
in the name of Queen Anne of England, the prince 
being left there with a garrison of two thousand 
men. From that time to this Gibraltar has remained 
an outpost of Great Britain, with whose outlying 
strongholds the whole world bristles. 

The loss of this strong place proved a bitter 
draught to the pride of Spain, and strenuous efforts 
to recapture it were made. In the succeeding year 
(1705) it was besieged by a strong force of French 
and Spanish troops, but their efforts were wasted, 
for the feeble court of Madrid left the army des- 
titute of necessary supplies. By the peace of 
Utrecht, 1713, Gibraltar was formally made over to 
Great Britain, a country famous for clinging with 
a death-grip to any place of which she has once 
taken hold. 

Later efforts were made to win the Eock of Tarik 
for Spain, one in 1756, but the last and greatest in 
1779-82. It is this vigorous effort with which we 
are here concerned, the siege being one of the most 
famous of recent times. 



THE ROCK OF GIBRALTAR. 287 

The Eevolutionary War in the United States stirred 
up all Europe, and finally brought Great Britian two 
new foes, the allied kingdoms of France and Spain. 
The latter country had never lost its irritation at 
seeing a foreign power in possession of a part of its 
home territory. Efforts were made to obtain Gib- 
raltar by negotiation, Spain offering her friendly aid 
to Great Britain in her wars if she would give up 
Gibraltar. This the British government positively 
refused to do, and war was declared. A siege of Gib- 
raltar began which lasted for more than three years. 

Spain began the work in 1779 with a blockade by 
sea and an investment by land. Supplies were cut 
off from the garrison, which was soon in a state of 
serious distress for food, and strong hopes were en- 
tertained that it would be forced to yield. But the 
British government was alert. Admiral Eodney 
was sent with a strong fleet to the Mediterranean, 
the Spanish blockading fleet was defeated, the garri- 
son relieved, provisioned, and reinforced, and Eodney 
sailed in triumph for the West Indies. 

For three years the blockade was continued with 
varying fortunes, the garrison being now on the 
verge of starvation, now relieved by British fleets. 
At the close of the third year it was far stronger 
than at the beginning. The effort to subdue it by 
famine was abandoned, and preparations for a vigor- 
ous siege were made. France had joined her forces 
with those of Spain. The island of Minorca, held 
by the British, had been taken by the allied fleet, 
and it was thought impossible for Gibraltar to resist 
the projected assault. 



288 HISTORICAL TALES. 

The land force that had so long besieged the rock 
was greatly strengthened, new batteries were raised, 
new trenches opened, and a severe fire was begun 
upon the works. Yet so commanding was the situa- 
tion and so strong were the defences of the garrison 
that success from the land side seemed impossible, 
and it was determined to make the main attack from 
the sea. 

A promising method of attack was devised by a 
French engineer of the highest reputation for skill 
in his profession, the Chevalier D' Argon, The plan 
offered by him was so original and ingenious as to 
fill the besiegers with hopes of sure success, and the 
necessary preparations were diligently made. Ten 
powerful floating batteries were constructed, which 
were thought fully adapted to resist fire, throw off 
shells, and quench red-hot balls. Every effort was 
made to render them incombustible and incapable 
of being sunk. These formidable batteries were 
towed to the bay of Gibraltar and anchored at a 
suitable distance from the works, D'Argon himself 
being in command. Ten ships of the line were sent 
to co-operate with them, the arrival of reinforce- 
ments from France increased the land army to forty 
thousand men, and Crillon, the conqueror of Minorca, 
was placed in supreme command. The allied fleets 
were ordered to cruise in the straits, so as to prevent 
interference by a British fleet. 

These great and scientific preparations filled all 
hearts with hope. Xo doubt was entertained that 
Gibraltar now must fall and Great Britain receive 
the chastisement she deserved. The nobility of 



THE ROCK OF GIBRALTAR. 289 

Spain sought in numbers the scene of action, eager 
to be present at the triumph of her arms. From 
Yersailles came the French princes, full of expecta- 
tion of witnessing the humbling of British pride. 
So confident of success was Charles III., king of 
Spain, that his first question every morning on 
waking was, " Is Gibraltar taken ?" All Spain and 
all France were instinct with hope of seeing the pride 
of the islanders go down. 

Gibraltar was garrisoned by seven thousand troops 
under General Elliot. These lay behind fortifica- 
tions on which had been exhausted all the resources 
of the engineering skill of that day, and in their 
hearts was the fixed resolve never to surrender. The 
question had become one of national pride rather 
than of utility. Gibraltar was not likely to prove 
of any very important advantage to Great Britain, 
but the instinct to hold on has always been with 
that country a national trait, and, however she might 
have been induced to yield Gibraltar as an act of 
policy, she was determined not to do so as an act 
of war. 

Early on the 13th of September, 1782, the long- 
threatened bombardment began from so powerful a 
park of artillery that its roar is said to have ex- 
ceeded anything ever before heard. There were 
defects in the plan. The trenches on land proved to 
be too far away. The water was rough and the 
gunboats could not assist. But the work of the bat- 
teries came up to the highest expectations. The fire 
poured by them upon the works was tremendous, 
while for many hours the shells and red-hot balls of 

19 



290 HISTORICAL TALES. 

the garrison^ fired with the greatest precision, proved 
of no avail. The batteries seemed invulnerable to 
fire and shell, and the hopes of the besiegers rose to 
the highest point, while those of the besieged corre- 
spondingly fell. 

In the end this powerful assault was defeated by 
one of those events to which armed bodies of men 
are always liable, — a sudden and uncalled-for spasm 
of fear that flew like wildfire through fleet and camp. 
The day had nearly passed, evening was approach- 
ing, the hopes of the allies were at their height, w^hen 
a red-hot ball from the works lodged in the nearest 
battery and started a fire, which the crew sought in 
vain to quench. 

In a sudden panic, for which there seems to have 
been no sufficient cause, the terrified crew wet their 
powder and ceased to fire on the British works. 
The panic spread to the other batteries, and from 
them to the forces on shore, even the commander- 
in-chief being afl'ected by the causeless fear. At one 
moment the assailants were enthusiastic with expec- 
tation of success. Not many minutes afterwards 
they were so overcome with unreasoning terror that 
an insane order was given to burn the batteries, and 
these were fired with such precipitate haste that the 
crews were allowed no time to escape. More of the 
men were saved by their enemies, who came with 
generous intrepidity to their aid, than by their own 
terror-stricken friends. 

This unfortunate event put a sudden end to the 
costly and promising effort. The nobles of Spain 
and the princes of France left the camp in disgust. 



THE ROCK OF GIBRALTAR. 291 

Charles III. received word that Gibraltar was not 
captured, and not likely to be, and the idea of taking 
the stronghold by force was abandoned, the blockade 
being resumed. 

To keep away British aid the allied fleet was in- 
creased until it numbered forty-seven ships of the 
line, with a considerable number of smaller vessels. 
Furnaces were prepared to heat shot for the destruc- 
tion of any transports and store-ships that might 
enter the harbor. Against this great fleet Lord 
Howe appeared in October with only thirty sail, 
and encumbered with a large convoy. The allied 
leaders seeing this small force, felt sure of victory, 
and of Gibraltar as their prize. 

But again they were doomed to disappointment. 
The elements came to the British aid. A violent 
storm drove the allied fleet from its anchorage, dis- 
persed the vessels, injured many of the large ships, 
and drove the small craft ashore. Lord Howe, 
whose ships were far better handled, sailed in good 
order through the straits, and for five days of rough 
weather offered battle to the disabled enemy, keep- 
ing them at a distance while his transports and store- 
ships entered the harbor and supplied the garrison 
abundantly with provisions, ammunition, and men. 
The effort to take Gibraltar was hopelessly defeated. 
The blockade was still kept up, but merely as a sat- 
isfaction to Spanish pride. All hope of taking the 
fortress was at an end. Gibraltar remains to-day 
in British hands, and no later attempt to take it has 
been made. 



THE FALL OF A FAVORITE. 

The course of our work now brings us down to 
recent times. After the death of Philip II., in 1598, 
Spain had Uttle history worth considering. Euled 
by a succession of painfully weak kings, and clasped 
in the fetters of a strangling bigotry, the fortunes 
of the realm ran steadily downward. From being 
the strongest, it became in time one of the weakest 
and least considered of European kingdoms ; and 
from taking the lead in the politics and wars of 
Europe, it came to be a plaything of the neighboring 
nations, — a catspaw which they used for the advance- 
ment of their own ends. 

It was in this way that Napoleon treated Spain. 
He played with it as a cat plays with a mouse, and 
when the proper time came pounced upon it and 
gathered it in. Charles lY., the Spanish king of 
Napoleon's time, was one of the feeblest of his 
weak line, — an imbecile whom the emperor of France 
counted no more than a feather in his path. He 
sought to deal with him as he had done with the 
equally effeminate king of Portugal. When a French 
army invaded Portugal in 1807, its weak monarch 
cut the knot of the difficulty by taking ship and 
crossing the ocean to Brazil, abandoning his old 
kingdom and setting up a new one in the New 
World. When Spain was in its turn invaded, its 
292 



THE FALL OP A FAVORITE. 293 

king proposed to do the same thing, — to carry the 
royal court of Spain to America, and leave a king- 
dom without a head to Napoleon. Such an act 
would have exactly suited the purposes of the astute 
conqueror, but the people rose in riot, and Charles 
TV. remained at home. 

The real ruler of Spain at that time was a licen- 
tious and insolent favorite of the king and queen, 
Emanuel Godoy by name, who began life as a sol- 
dier, was made Duke of Alcudia by his royal patrons, 
and was appointed prime minister in 1792. In 1795, 
having made peace with France after a disastrous 
war, he received the title of " Prince of the Peace." 
His administration was very corrupt, and he won 
the hatred of the nobles, the people, and the heir to 
the throne. But his influence over the imbecile king 
and the licentious queen was unbounded, and he 
could afford to laugh in the face of his foes. But 
favorites are apt to have a short period of power, 
and, though Godoy remained long in office, his down- 
fall at length came. 

Napoleon had marched his armies through Spain 
to the conquest of Portugal, no one in Spain hav- 
ing the courage to object. It was stipulated that 
a second French army should not cross the Pyre- 
nees, but in defiance of this Napoleon filled the north 
of Spain with his troops in 1808, and sent a third 
army across the mountains without pretence of their 
being needed in Portugal. No protest was made 
against this invasion of a neutral nation. The 
court of Madrid was helpless with terror, and, with 
the hope of propitiating Napoleon, admitted his 



294 HISTORICAL TALES. 

legions into all the cities of Catalonia, Biscay, and 
Navarre. 

Only one thing more was needed to make the 
French masters of the whole country. They held 
the towns, but the citadels were in possession of 
Spanish troops. These could not be expelled by vio- 
lence while a show of peace was kept up. But Na- 
poleon wanted them, and employed stratagem to get 
them into his hands. 

In two of the towns, St. Sebastian and Figueras, 
a simple lie sufficed. The officers in command of 
the French garrisons asked permission to quarter 
their unruly conscripts in the citadels. As the court 
had ordered that all the wishes of the emperor's 
officers should be gratified, this seemingly innocent 
request was granted. But in place of conscripts the 
best men of the regiments were sent, and these were 
gradually increased in numbers until in the end they 
overpowered the Spanish garrisons and admitted the 
French. 

At Pamplona a similar request was refused by the 
governor of the citadel, but he permitted sixty un- 
armed men daily to enter the fortress to receive 
rations for their respective divisions. Here was the 
fatal entering wedge. One night the officer in charge, 
whose quarters were near the citadel gate, secretly 
filled his house with armed grenadiers. The next 
morning sixty picked men, with arms hidden under 
their cloaks, were sent in for rations. The hour was 
too early, and the French soldiers loitered about 
under pretence of waiting for the quartermaster. 
Some sauntered into the Spanish guard-house. 



THE FALL OP A FAVORITE. 295 

Others, by a sportive scuffle on the drawbridge, pre- 
vented its being raised, and occupied the attention 
of the garrison. Suddenly a signal was given. The 
men drew their weapons and seized the arms of the 
Spaniards. The grenadiers rushed from their con- 
cealment. The bridge and gate were secured, French 
troops hastened to the aid of their comrades, and 
the citadel was won. 

At Barcelona a different stratagem was employed. 
A review of the French forces was held under the 
walls of the citadel, whose garrison assembled to 
look on. During the progress of the review the 
French general, on pretence that he had been or- 
dered from the city, rode with his staif on to the 
drawbridge with the ostensible purpose of bidding 
farewell to the Spanish commander. While the 
Spaniards curiously watched the manoeuvres of the 
troops others of the French quietly gathered on the 
drawbridge. At a signal this was seized, a rush took 
place, and the citadel of Barcelona was added to the 
conquests of France. 

The surprise of these fortresses produced an im- 
mense sensation in Spain. That country had sunk 
into a condition of pitiable weakness. Its navy, once 
powerful, was now reduced to a small number of 
ships, few of them in condition for service. Its 
army, once the strongest in Europe, was now but a 
handful of poorly equipped and half-drilled men. 
Its finances were in a state of frightful disorgan- 
ization. The government of a brainless king, a 
dissolute queen, and an incapable favorite had 
brought Spain into a condition in which she dared 



2&6 HISTORICAL TALES. 

not raise a hand to resist the ambitious French 
emperor. 

In this dilemma Godoy, the so-called " Prince of 
the Peace," persuaded the king and queen of Spain 
that nothing was left them but flight. The royal 
house of Portugal had found a great imperial realm 
awaiting it in America. Spain possessed there a 
dominion of continental extent. What better could 
they do than remove to the New World the seat of 
their throne and cut loose from their threatened and 
distracted realm ? 

The project was concealed under the form of a 
journey to Andalusia, for the purpose, as announced 
by Godoy, of inspecting the ports. But the exten- 
sive preparations of the court for this journey aroused 
a suspicion of its true purpose among the people, 
whose indignation became extreme on finding that 
they were to be deserted by the royal house, as 
Portugal had been. The exasperation of all classes 
— the nobility, the middle class, and the people — 
against the court grew intense. It was particularly 
developed in the army, a body which Godoy had 
badly treated. The army leaders argued that they 
had better welcome the French than permit this dis- 
grace, and that it was their duty to prevent by force 
the flight of the king. 

But all this did not deter the Prince of the Peace. 
He had several frigates made ready in the port of 
Cadiz, the royal carriages were ordered to be in 
readiness, and relays of horses were provided on the 
road. The date of departure was fixed for the 15th 
or 16th of March, 1808. 



THE FALL OP A FAVORITE. 297 

On the 13th Godoy made his way from Madrid to 
Aranjuez, a magnificent royal residence on the banks 
of the Tagus, then occupied by the royal family. 
This residence, in the Italian style and surrounded 
by superb grounds and gardens, was fronted by a wide 
highway, expanding opposite the palace into a spa- 
cious place, on which were several fine mansions be- 
longing to courtiers and ministers, one of the finest 
being occupied by the prime minister. In the vi- 
cinity a multitude of small houses, inhabited by 
tradesmen and shop-keepers, made up the town of 
Aranjuez. 

Godoy, on arriving at Aranjuez, summoned a coun- 
cil of the ministers, the time having arrived to ap- 
prise them of what was proposed. One of them, the 
Marquis of Caballero, kept him waiting, and on his 
arrival refused to consent, either by word or signa- 
ture, to the flight of the king. 

" I order you to sign," the prime minister angrily 
exclaimed. 

" I take no orders except from the king," haugh- 
tily replied the marquis. 

A sharp altercation followed, in which the other 
ministers took part, and the meeting broke up in 
disorder, nothing being done. On retiring, the irate 
counsellors, full of agitation, dropped words which 
were caught up by the public and aroused a com- 
motion that quickly spread throughout the town. 
Thence it extended into the surrounding country, 
everywhere arousing the disaifected, and soon strange 
and sinister faces appeared in the quiet town. The 
elements of a popular outbreak were gathering. 



298 HISTORICAL TALES. 

During the succeeding two days the altercation 
between the Prince of the Peace and the ministers 
continued, and the public excitement was added to 
by words attributed to Ferdinand, the king's son 
and heir to the throne, who was said to have sought 
aid against those who proposed to carry him off 
against his will. On the morning of the 16th, the 
final day fixed for the journey, the public agitation 
was so great that the king issued a proclamation, 
which was posted in the streets, saying that he had 
no thought of leaving his people. It ended : '•' Span- 
iards, be easy ; your king will not leave you." 

This for the time calmed the people. Yet on the 
17th the excitement reappeared. The carriages re- 
mained loaded in the palace court-yard ; the relays 
of horses were kept up ; all the indications were sus- 
picious. During the day the troops of the garrison 
of Madrid not on duty, with a large number of the 
populace, appeared in Aranjuez, having marched a 
distance of seven or eight leagues. They shouted 
maledictions on their way against the queen and the 
Prince of the Peace. 

The streets of Aranjuez that night were filled with 
an excited mob, many of them life-guards from Ma- 
drid, who divided into bands and patrolled the vi- 
cinity of the palace, determined that no one should 
leave. About midnight an incident changed the 
excitement into a riot. A lady left Godoy's resi- 
dence under escort of a few soldiers. She appeared 
to be about to enter a carriage. The crowd pressed 
closely around, and the hussars of the minister, who 
attended the lady, attempted to force a passage 



THE FALL OF A FAVORITE. 299 

through them. At this moment a gun was fired, — 
by whom was not known. A frightful tumult at 
once arose. The life-guards and other soldiers rushed 
upon the hussars, and a furious mob gathered around 
the palace, shouting, " Long live the king !" " Death 
to the Prince of the Peace !" 

Soon a rush was made towards the residence of 
the prince, which the throng surrounded, gazing at 
it with eyes of anger, yet hesitating to make an at- 
tack. As they paused in doubt, a messenger from 
the palace approached the mansion and sought ad- 
mission. It was refused from those within. He in- 
sisted upon entrance, and a shot came from the guards 
within. In an instant all hesitation was at an end. 
The crowd rushed in fury against the doors, broke 
them in, and swarmed into the building, driving the 
guards back in dismay. 

It was magnificently furnished, but their passion 
to destroy soon made havoc of its furniture and 
decorations. Pictures, hangings, costly articles of 
use and ornament were torn down, dashed to pieces, 
flung from the windows. The mob ran from room 
to room, destroying everything of value they met, 
and eagerly seeking the object of their hatred, with 
a passionate thirst for his life. The whole night 
was spent in the search, and, the prince not being 
found, his house was reduced to a wreck. 

Word of what was taking place filled the weak 
soul of Charles lY. with mortal terror. The prince 
failed to appear, and, by the advice of the ministers, 
a decree was issued by the king on the following 
morning depriving Emanuel Godoy of the offices of 



300 HISTORICAL TALES. 

grand admiral and generalissimo, and exiling him 
from the court. 

Thus fell this detestable favorite, the people, who 
blamed him for the degradation of Spain, breaking 
into a passionate joy, singing, dancing, building bon- 
fires, and giving every manifestation of delight. In 
Madrid, when the news reached there, the enthusiasm 
approached delirium. 

Meanwhile, where was the fallen favorite? De- 
spite the close search made by the mob, he remained 
concealed in his residence. Alarmed by the crash 
of the breaking doors, he had seized a pistol and a 
handful of gold, rushed up-stairs, and bid himself in 
a loft under the roof, rolling himself up in a sort of 
rush carpet used in Spain. Here he remained during 
the whole of the 18th and the succeeding night, but 
on the morning of the 19th, after thirty-six hours' 
suffering, thirst and hunger forced him to leave his 
retreat. He presented himself suddenly before a 
sentry on duty in the palace, offering him his gold. 
But the man refused the bribe and instantly called 
the guard. Fortunately the mass of the people 
were not near by. Some life-guards who just then 
came up placed the miserable captive between their 
horses, and conveyed him as rapidly as they could 
towards their barracks. But these were at some 
distance, the news of the capture spread like wild- 
fire, and they had not gone far before the mob be- 
gan to gather around them, their hearts full of mur- 
derous rage. 

The prince was on foot between two of the 
mounted guardsmen, leaning for shelter against the 



THE FALL OP A FAVORITE. 301 

pommels of their saddles. Others of the horsemen 
closed up in front and rear, and did their best to 
protect him from the fury of the rabble, who struck 
wildly at him with every weapon they had been able 
to snatch up. Despite the efforts of the guardsmen 
some of the blows reached him, and he was finally 
brought to the barracks with his feet trodden by the 
horses, a large wound in his thigh, and one eye 
nearly out of his head. Here he was thrown, covered 
with blood, upon the straw in the stables, a sad ex- 
ample of what comes of the favor of kings when 
exercised in defiance of the will of the people. 
Godoy had begun life as a life-guardsman, and now, 
after almost sharing the throne, he had thus returned 
to the barracks and the straw bed of his youth. 

We may give in outline the remainder of the 
story of this fallen favorite. Promise being given 
that he should have an impartial trial, the mob 
ceased its efforts to kill him. Napoleon, who had 
use for him, now came to his rescue, and induced 
him to sign a deed under which Charles lY. abdi- 
cated the throne in favor of his son. His posses- 
sions in Spain were confiscated, but Charles, who re- 
moved to Eome, was his friend during life. After the 
death of his protector he went to Paris, where he 
received a pension from Louis Philippe ; and in 1847, 
when eighty years of age, he received permission to 
return to Spain, his titles and most of his property 
being restored. But he preferred to live in Paris, 
where he died in 1851. 



THE SIEGE OF SARA G OSS A. 

On the banks of the Ebro, in northwestern Spain, 
stands the ancient city of Saragossa, formerly the 
capital of Aragon, and a place of fame since early 
Eoman days. A noble bridge of seven arches, built 
nearly five centuries ago, crosses the stream, and a 
wealth of towers and spires gives the city an im- 
posing appearance. This city is famous for its sieges, 
of which a celebrated one took place in the twelfth 
century, when the Christians held it in siege for five 
years, ending in 1118. In the end the Moors were 
forced to surrender, or such of them as survived, for 
a great part of them had died of hunger. In modern 
times it gained new and high honor from its cele- 
brated resistance to the French in 1808. It is this 
siege with which we are concerned, one almost with- 
out parallel in history. 

We have told in the preceding tale how Charles 
IV. of Spain was forced to yield the throne to his 
son Ferdinand, who was proclaimed king March 20, 
1808. This act by no means agreed with the views 
of Napoleon, who had plans of his own for Spain, 
and who sought to end the difliculty by deposing the 
Bourbon royal family and placing his own brother^ 
Joseph Bonaparte, on the throne. 

The imperious emperor of the French had, how- 
ever, the people as well as the rulers of Spain to 
302 



THE SIEGE OF SARAGOSSA. 303 

deal with. The news of his arbitrary action was 
received throughout the Peninsula with intense in- 
dignation, and suddenly the land blazed into insur- 
rection, and the French garrisons, which had been 
treacherously introduced into Spain, found them- 
selves besieged. Everywhere the peasants seized 
arms and took to the field, and a fierce guerilla war- 
fare began which the French found it no easy matter 
to overcome. At Baylen, a town of Andalusia, which 
was besieged by the insurgents, the French suffered 
a serious defeat, an army of eighteen thousand men 
being forced to surrender as prisoners of war. This 
was the only important success of the Spanish, but 
they courageously resisted their foes, and at Sara- 
gossa gained an honor unsurpassed in the history of 
Spain. Never had there been known such a siege 
and such a defence. 

Saragossa was attacked by General Lefebre on 
June 15, 1808. Thinking that a city protected only 
by a low brick wall, with peasants and townsmen 
for its defenders, and few guns in condition for ser- 
vice, could be carried at first assault, the French 
general made a vigorous attack, but found himself 
driven back. He had but four or five thousand men, 
while the town had fifty thousand inhabitants, the 
commander of the garrison being Joseph Palafox, a 
man of indomitable spirit. 

Lefebre, perceiving that he had been over-con- 
fident, now encamped and awaited reinforcements, 
which arrived on the 29th, increasing his force to 
twelve thousand men. He was recalled for service 
elsewhere. General Yerdier being left in command, 



304 HISTORICAL TALES. 

and during the succeeding two months the siege was 
vigorously prosecuted, the French being supplied 
with a large siege train, with which they hotly bom- 
barded the city. 

Weak as were the walls of Saragossa, interiorly 
it was remarkably well adapted for defence. The 
houses were strongly built, of incombustible material, 
they being usually of two stories, each story vaulted 
and practically fireproof. Every house had its gar- 
rison, and the massive convents which rose like 
castles within the circuit of the wall were filled with 
armed men. Usually when the walls of a city are 
taken the city falls ; but this was by no means the 
case with Saragossa. The loss of its walls was but 
the beginning, not the end, of its defence. Each 
convent, each house, formed a separate fortress. 
The walls were loop-holed for musketry, ramparts 
were constructed of sand-bags, and beams were raised 
endwise against the houses to afford shelter from 
shells. 

It was not until August that the French, now 
fifteen thousand strong, were able to force their way 
into the city. But to enter the city was not to cap- 
ture it. They had to fight their way from street to 
street and from house to house. At length the as- 
sailants penetrated to the Cosso, a public walk formed 
on the line of the old Moorish ramparts, but here 
their advance was checked, the citizens defending 
themselves with the most desperate and unyielding 
energy. 

The singular feature of this defence was that the 
women of Saragossa took as active a part in it as 



THE SIEGE OP SARAGOSSA. 305 

the men. The Countess Burita, a beautiful young 
woman of intrepid spirit, took the lead in forming 
her fellow-women into companies, at whose head 
were ladies of the highest rank. These, undeterred 
by the hottest fire and freely braving wounds and 
death, carried provisions to the combatants, removed 
the wounded to the hospitals, and were everywhere 
active in deeds of mercy and daring. One of them, 
a young woman of low rank but intrepid soul, gained 
world-wide celebrity by an act of unusual courage 
and presence of mind. 

While engaged one day in her regular duty, that 
of carrying meat and wine to the defenders of a 
battery, she found it deserted and the guns aban- 
doned. The French fire had proved so murderous 
that the men had shrunk back in mortal dread. 
Snatching a match from the hand of a dead artillery- 
man, the brave girl fired his gun, and vowed that she 
would never leave it while a Frenchman remained 
in Saragossa. Her daring shamed the men, who 
returned to their guns, but, as the story goes, the 
brave girl kept her vow, working the gun she had 
chosen until she had the joy to see the French in 
full retreat. This took place on the 14th of August, 
when the populace, expecting nothing but to die 
amid the ruins of their houses, beheld with delight 
the enemy in full retreat. The obstinate resistance 
of the people and reverses to the arms of France 
elsewhere had forced them to raise the siege. 

The deeds of the " Maid of Saragossa" have been 
celebrated in poetry by Byron and Southey and in 
art by Wilkie, and she stands high on the roll of 

20 



306 HISTORICAL TALE8. 

heroic women, being given, as some declare, a more 
elevated position than her exploit deserved. 

Saragossa, however, was only reprieved, not aban- 
doned. The French found themselves too busily oc- 
cupied elsewhere to attend to this centre of Spanish 
valor until months had passed. At length, after the 
defeat and retreat of Sir John Moore and the Eng- 
lish allies of Spain, a powerful army, thirty-five 
thousand strong, returned to the city on the Ebro, 
with a battering train of sixty guns. 

Palafox remained in command in the citv, which 
was now much more strongly fortified and better 
prepared for defence. The garrison was super- 
abundant. From the field of battle at Tudela, where 
the Spaniards had suffered a severe defeat, a stream 
of soldiers fled to Saragossa, bringing with them 
wagons and military stores in abundance. As the 
fugitives passed, the villagers along the road, moved 
by terror, joined them, and into the gates of the city 
poured a flood of soldiers, camp-followers, and peas- 
ants, until it was thronged with human beings. Last 
of all came the French, reaching the city on the 20th 
of December, and resuming their interrupted siege. 
And now Saragossa, though destined to fall, was to 
cover itself with undying glory. 

The townsmen, giving up every thought of per- 
sonal property, devoted all their goods, their houses, 
and their persons to the war, mingling with the sol- 
diers and the peasants to form one great garrison for 
the fortress into which the whole city was trans- 
formed. In all quarters of the city massive churches 
and convents rose like citadels, the various large 



THE SIEGE OF SARAGOSSA. 307 

streets running into the broad avenue called the 
Cosso, and dividing the city into a number of dis- 
tricts, each with its large and massive structures, 
well capable of defence. 

Not only these thick- walled buildings, but all the 
houses, were converted into forts, the doors and win- 
dows being built up, the fronts loop-holed, and open- 
ings for communication broken through the party- 
walls ; while the streets were defended by trenches 
and earthen ramparts mounted with cannon. Never 
before was there such an instance of a whole city 
converted into a fortress, the thickness of the ram- 
parts being here practically measured by the whole 
width of the city. 

Saragossa had been a royal depot for saltpetre, and 
powder-mills near by had taught many of its people 
the process of manufacture, so no magazines of 
powder subject to explosion were provided, this in- 
dispensable substance being made as it was needed. 
Outside the walls the trees were cut down and the 
houses demolished, so that they might not shield the 
enemy ; the public magazines contained six months' 
provisions, the convents and houses were well 
stocked, and every preparation was made for a long 
siege and a vigorous defence. 

Again, as before, companies of women were en- 
rolled to attend the wounded in the hospitals and 
carry food and ammunition to the men, the Countess 
Burita being once more their commander, and per- 
forming her important duty with a heroism and high 
intelligence worthy of the utmost praise. Not less 
than fifty thousand combatants within the walls 



308 HISTORICAL TALES. 

faced the thirty-five thousand French soldiers with- 
out, who had before them the gigantic task of over- 
coming a city in which ever^^ dwelling was a fort 
and every family a garrison. 

A month and more passed before the walls were 
taken. Steadily the French guns played on these 
defences, breach after breach was made, a number 
of the encircling convents were entered and held, and 
by the 1st of February the walls and outer strong- 
holds of the city were lost. Ordinarily, under such 
circumstances, the city would have fallen, but here 
the work of the assailants had but fairly begun. 
The inner defences — the houses with their unyield- 
ing garrisons — stood intact, and a terrible task still 
faced the French. 

The war was now in the city streets, the houses 
nearest the posts held by the enemy were crowded 
with defenders, in every quarter the alarm-bells 
called the citizens to their duty, new barricades rose 
in the streets, mines were sunk in the open spaces, 
and the internal passages from house to house were 
increased until the whole city formed a vast laby- 
rinth, throughout which the defenders could move 
under cover. 

Marshall Lannes, the French commander, viewed 
with dread and doubt the scene before him. Un- 
trained in the art of war as were the bulk of the 
defenders, courage and passionate patriotism made 
up for all deficiencies. Men like these, heedless of 
death in their determined defence, were dangerous 
to meet in open battle, and the prudent Frenchman 
resolved to employ the slow but surer process of 



THE SIEGE OP SARAGOSSA. 309 

excavating a passage and fighting his way through 
house after house until the city should be taken 
piecemeal. 

Mining through the houses was not sufficient. 
The greater streets divided the city into a number 
of small districts, the group of dwellings in each of 
which forming a separate stronghold. To cross these 
streets it was necessary to construct underground 
galleries, or build traverses, since a Spanish battery 
raked each street, and each house had to be fought 
for and taken separately. 

While the Spaniards held the convents and 
churches the capture of the houses by the French 
was of little service to them, the defenders making 
sudden and successful sallies from these strong build- 
ings, and countermining their enemies, their numbers 
and perseverance often frustrating the superior skill 
of the French. The latter, therefore, directed their 
attacks upon these buildings, mining and destroying 
many of them. On the other hand, the defenders 
saturated with rosin and pitch the timbers of the 
buildings they could no longer hold, and interposed 
a barrier of fire between themselves and their as- 
sailants which often delayed them for several days. 

Step by step, inch by inch, the French made their 
way forward, complete destruction alone enabling 
them to advance. The fighting was incessant. The 
explosion of mines, the crash of falling buildings, the 
roar of cannon and musketry, the shouts of the com- 
batants continually filled the air, while a cloud of 
smoke and dust hung constantly over the city as the 
terrible scene of warfare continued day after day. 



310 HISTORICAL TALES. 

By the 17th of February the Cosso was reached 
and passed. But the French soldiers had become 
deeply discouraged by their fifty days of unremit- 
ting labor and battle, fighting above and beneath 
the earth, facing an enemy as bold as themselves 
and much more numerous, and with half the city 
still to be conquered. Only the obstinate determina- 
tion of Marshal Lannes kept them to their work. 

By his orders a general assault was made on the 
18th. Under the university, a large building in the 
Cosso, mines containing three thousand pounds of 
powder were exploded, the walls falling with a ter- 
rific crash. Meanwhile, fifty pieces of artillery were 
playing on the side of the Ebro, where the great 
convent of St. Lazar was breached and taken, two 
thousand men being here cut off from the city. On 
the 19th other mines were exploded, and on the 20th 
six great mines under the Cosso, loaded with thou- 
sands ot pounds of powder, whose explosion would 
have caused immense destruction, were ready for the 
match, when an off'er to surrender brought the ter- 
rible struggle to an end. 

The case had become one of surrender or death. 
The bombardment, incessant since the 10th of Janu- 
ary, had forced the women and children into the 
vaults, which were abundant in Saragossa. There 
the closeness of the air, the constant burning of oil, 
and the general unsanitary conditions had given rise 
to a pestilence which threatened to carry off" all the 
inhabitants of the city. Such was the state of the 
atmosphere that slight wounds became fatal, and 
many of the defenders of the barricades were fit only 



THE SIEGE OP SARAGOSSA. 311 

for the hospitals. By the 1st of February the death- 
rate had become enormous. The daily deaths num- 
bered nearly five hundred, and thousands of corpses, 
which it was impossible to bury, lay in the streets 
and houses, and in heaps at the doors of the churches, 
infecting the air with their decay. The French held 
the suburbs, most of the wall, and one-fourth of the 
houses, while the bursting of thousands of shells and 
the explosion of nearly fifty thousand pounds of gun- 
powder in mines had shaken the city to its founda- 
tions. Of the hundred thousand people who had 
gathered within its walls, more than fifty thousand 
were dead ; thousands of others would soon follow 
them to the grave ; Palafox, their indomitable chief, 
was sick unto death. Yet despite this there was a 
strong and energetic party who wished to protract 
the siege, and the deputies appointed to arrange 
terms of surrender were in peril of their lives. 

The terms granted were that the garrison should 
march out with the honors of war, to be taken as 
prisoners to France ; the peasants should be sent to 
their homes ; the rights of property and exercise of 
religion should be guaranteed. 

Thus ended one of the most remarkable sieges on 
record, — remarkable alike for the energy and per- 
sistence of the attack and the courage and obstinacy 
of the defence. Never in all history has any other 
city stood out so long after its walls had fallen. 
Earely has any city been so adapted to a protracted 
defence. Had not its houses been nearly incombus- 
tible it would have been reduced to ashes by the 
bombardment. Had not its churches and convents 



312 HISTORICAL TALES. 

possessed the strength of forts it must have quickly 
yielded. Had not the people been animated by an 
extraordinary enthusiasm, in which women did the 
work of men, a host of peasants and citizens could 
not so long have endured the terrors of assault on 
the one hand and of pestilence on the other. In the 
words of General Napier, the historian of the Penin- 
sular War, " When the other events of the Spanish 
war shall be lost in the obscurity of time, or only 
traced by disconnected fragments, the story of Zara- 
goza, hke some ancient triumphal pillar standing 
amidst ruins, will tell a tale of past glory." 



THE HERO OF THE CARLISTS. 

Spain for years past has had its double king, — a 
king in possession and a king in exile, a holder of 
the throne and an aspirant to the throne. For the 
greater part of a century one has rarely heard of 
Spain without hearing of the Carlists, for continually 
since 1830 there has been a princely claimant named 
Charles, or Don Carlos, struggling for the crown. 

Ferdinand YII., who succeeded to the throne on 
the abdication of Charles lY. in 1808, made every 
effort to obtain an heir. Three wives he had with- 
out a child, and his brother, Don Carlos, naturally 
hoped to succeed him. But the persistent king mar- 
ried a fourth time, and this time a daughter was born 
to him. There was a law excluding females from 
the throne, but this law had been abrogated by Fer- 
dinand to please his wife, and thus the birth of his 
daughter robbed Don Carlos of his hopes of becom- 
ing king. 

Ferdinand died in 1833, and the infant Isabella 
was proclaimed queen, with her mother as regent. 
The liberals supported her, the absolutists gathered 
around Don Carlos, and for years there was a bitter 
struggle in Spain, the strength of the Carlists being 
in the Basque provinces and Spanish Navarre, — a 
land of mountaineers, loyal in nature and conserva- 
tive by habit. 

813 



314 HISTORICAL TALES. 

The dynasty of the pretender has had three suc- 
cessive claimants to the throne. The first Don Carlos 
abdicated in 1844, and was succeeded by Don Carlos 
the Second, his son. He died in 1861, and his cousin, 
Don Carlos the Third, succeeded to the claim, and 
renewed the struggle for the crown. It was this 
third of the name that threatened to renew the in- 
surrection during the Spanish-American war of 1898. 

This explanation is necessary to make clear what 
is known by Carlism in Spain. Many as have been 
the Carlist insurrections, they have had but one leader 
of ability, one man capable of bringing them suc- 
cess. This was the famous Basque chieftain Zu- 
malacarregui, the renowned " Uncle Tomas" of the 
Carlists, whose brilliant career alone breaks the dull 
monotony of Spanish history in the nineteenth cen- 
tury, and who would in all probability have placed 
Don Carlos on the throne but for his death from a 
mortal wound in 1835. Since then Carlism has 
struggled on with little hope of success. 

Navarre, the chief seat of the insurrection, borders 
on the chain of the Pyrenees, and is a wild confusion 
of mountains and hills, where the traveller is con- 
fused in a labyrinth of long and narrow valleys, deep 
glens, and rugged rocks and cliffs. The mountains 
are highest in the north, but nowhere can horsemen 
proceed the day through without dismounting, and 
in many localities even foot travel is very difficult. 
In passing from village to village long and winding 
roads must be traversed, the short cuts across the 
mountains being such as only a goat or a Navarrese 
can tread. 



THE HERO OP THE CARLISTS. 315 

Eegular troops, in traversing this rugged country, 
are exhausted by the shortest marches, while the 
people of the region go straight through wood and 
ravine^ plunging into the thick forests and following 
narrow paths, through which pursuit is impossible, 
and where an invading force does not dare to send 
out detachments for fear of having them cut oif by 
a sudden guerilla attack. It was here and in the 
Basque provinces to the west, with their population 
of hardy and daring mountaineers, that the troops 
of I^apoleon found themselves most annoyed by the 
bold guerilla chiefs, and here the Carlist forces long 
defied the armies of the crown. 

Tomas Zumalacarregui, the " modern Cid," as his 
chief historian entitles him, was a man of high mili- 
tary genius, rigid in discipline, skilful in administra- 
tion, and daring in leadership ; a stern, grave soldier, 
to whose face a smile rarely came except when shots 
were falling thick around him and when his staff 
appeared as if they would have preferred music of 
a different kind. To this intrepid chief fear seemed 
unknown, prudence in battle unthought of, and so 
many were his acts of rashness that when a bullet 
at length reached him it seemed a miracle that he 
had escaped so long. The white charger which he 
rode became such a mark for the enemy, from its 
frequent appearance at the head of a charging troop 
or in rallying a body of skirmishers, that all those 
of a similar color ridden by members of his staff 
were successively shot, though his always escaped. 
On more than one occasion he brought victory out 
of doubt, or saved his little army in retreat, by an 



316 HISTORICAL TALES. 

act of hare-brained bravery. Such was the " Uncle 
Tomas" of the Navarrese, the darling of the moun- 
taineers, the man who would very likely have brought 
final victory to their cause had not death cut him 
off in the midst of his career. 

Few were the adherents of Don Carlos when this 
able soldier placed himself at their head, — a feeble 
remnant hunted like a band of robbers among their 
native mountains. When he appeared in 1833, es- 
caping from Madrid, where he was known as a brave 
soldier and an opponent of the queen, he found but 
the fragment of an insurgent army in Navarre. All 
he could gather under his banner were about eight 
hundred half-armed and undisciplined men, — a sorry 
show with which to face an army of over one hun- 
dred and twenty thousand men, many of them vet- 
erans of the recent wars. These were thrown in 
successive waves against Uncle Tomas and his hand- 
ful of followers, reinforcement following reinforce- 
ment, general succeeding general, even the redoubt- 
able Mina among them, each with a new plan to 
crush the Carlist chief, yet each disastrously fail- 
ing. 

Beginning with eight hundred badly armed peas- 
ants and fourteen horses, the gallant leader had at 
the time of his death a force of twenty-eight thou- 
sand well-organized and discijDlined infantry and 
eight hundred horsemen, with twenty-eight pieces 
of artillery and twelve thousand spare muskets, all 
won by his good sword from the foe, — his arsenal 
being, as he expressed it, " in the ranks of the en- 
emy." During these two years of incessant war 



THE HERO OF THE CARLISTS. 317 

more than fifty thousand of the army of Spain, in- 
cluding a very large number of ofiicers, had fallen in 
Navarre, sixteen fortified places had been taken, and 
the cause of Don Carlos was advancing by leaps 
and bounds. The road to Madrid lay open to the 
Carlist hero when, at the siege of Bilboa, a distant 
and nearly spent shot struck him, inflicting a wound 
from which he soon died. With the fall of Zuma- 
lacarregui fell the Carlist cause. Weak hands 
seized the helm from which his strong one had been 
struck, incompetency succeeded genius, and three 
years more of a weakening struggle brought the 
contest to an end. In all later revivals of the insur- 
rection it has never gained a hopeful stand, and with 
the fall of " Uncle Tomas" the Carlist claim to the 
throne seemingly received its death-blow. 

The events of the war between the JS'avarrese and 
their opponents were so numerous that it is not easy 
to select one of special interest from the mass. We 
shall therefore speak only of the final incidents of 
Zumalacarregui's career. Among the later events 
was the siege and capture of Yillafranca. Espartero, 
the Spanish general, led seven thousand men to the 
relief of this place, marching them across the moun- 
tains on a dark and stormy night with the hope of 
taking the Carlists by surprise. But Uncle Tomas 
was not the man to be taken unawares, and reversed 
the surprise, striking Espartero with a small force in 
the darkness, and driving back his men in confusion 
and dismay. Eighteen hundred prisoners were 
taken, and the general himself narrowly escaped. 
General Mirasol was taken, with all his staff, in a 



318 HISTORICAL TALES. 

road-side house, from which he made an undignified 
escape. He was a small man, and by turning up his 
embroidered cuffs, these being the only marks of the 
grade of brigadier-general in the Spanish army^ he 
concealed his rank. He told his captors that he was 
a tamhor. In their anxiety to capture officers the 
soldiers considered a drummer too small game, and 
dismissed the general with a sound kick to the 
custody of those outside. As these had more 
prisoners than they could well manage, he easily 
escaped. 

On learning of the defeat of Espartero the city 
surrendered. The news of the fall of Yillafranca 
had an important effect, the city of Tolosa being 
abandoned by its garrison and Burgera surrendered, 
though it was strongly garrisoned. Here Charles Y. 
— as Don Carlos was styled by his party — made a 
triumphal entry. He was then at the summit of his 
fortunes and full of aspiring hopes. Eybar was 
next surrendered, the garrison of Durango fled, and 
Salvatierra was evacuated. 

Victory seemed to have perched upon the banners 
of the Navarrese, town after town falling in rapid 
succession into their hands, and the crown of Spain 
appeared likely soon to change hands. Zumalacar- 
regui proposed next to march upon Yittoria, which 
had been abandoned with the exception of a few 
battalions, and thence upon the important city of 
Burgos, where he would either force the enemy to 
a battle or move forward upon Madrid. So rapid 
and signal had been his successes that consternation 
filled the army of the queen, the soldiers being in 



THE HERO OP THE CARLISTS. 319 

such terror that little opposition was feared. Bets 
ran high in the Carlist army that six weeks would 
see them in Madrid, and any odds could have been 
had that they would be there within two months. 
Such was the promising state of affairs when the 
impolitic interference of Don Carlos led to a turn in 
the tide of his fortune and the overthrow of his 
cause. 

What he wanted most was money. His military 
chest was empty. In the path of the army lay the 
rich mercantile city of Bilboa. Its capture would 
furnish a temporary supply. He insisted that the 
army, instead of crossing the Ebro and taking full 
advantage of the panic of the enemy, should at- 
tack this place. This Zumalacarregui strongly 
opposed. 

" Can you take it ?" asked Carlos. 

" I can take it, but it will be at an immense sacri- 
fice, not so much of men as of time, which now is 
precious," was the reply. 

Don Carlos insisted, and the general, sorely against 
his will, complied. The movement was not only un- 
wise in itself, it led to an accident that brought to an 
end all the fair promise of success. 

The siege was begun. Zumalacarregui, anxious to 
save time, determined to take the place by storm as 
soon as a practicable breach should be made, and on 
the morning of the day he had fixed for the assault 
he, with his usual daring, stepped into the balcony of 
a building not far from the walls to inspect the state 
of affairs with his glass. 

On seeing a man thus exposed, evidently a supe- 



320 HISTORICAL TALES. 

rior officer, to judge from bis telescope and the black 
fur jacket he wore, all the men within that part of 
the walls opened fire on him. The general soon 
came out of the balcony limping in a way that at 
once created alarm, and. unable to conceal his lame- 
ness, he admitted that he was wounded. A bullet, 
glancing from one of the bars of the balcony win- 
dow, had struck him in the calf of the right leg, 
fracturing the small bone and dropping two or three 
inches lower in the flesh. 

The wound appeared but trifling. — the slight hurt 
of a spent ball. — but the surgeons, disputing as to 
the policy of extracting the ball, did nothing, not 
even dressing the wound till the next morning. It 
was of slight importance, they said. He would be 
on horseback within a month, perhaps in two weeks. 
The wounded man was not so sanguine. 

'• The pitcher goes to the well till it breaks at last," 
he said. '- Two months more and I would not have 
cared for any sort of wound." 

Those two months might have put Don Carlos on 
the throne and changed the history of Spain. In 
eleven days the general was dead and a change had 
come over the spirit of affaii*s. The operations 
against Bilboa languished, the garrison regained 
their courage, the plan of storming the place was set 
aside, the queen's troops, cheered by tidings of the 
death of the "terrible ZumalacaiTegui," took heart 
again and marched to the relief of the city. Their 
advance ended in the siege being raised, and in the 
first encounter after the death of their redoubtable 
chief the Carhsts met with defeat. The decline in 



THE HERO OF THE CARLISTS. 321 

the fortunes of Don Carlos had begun. One man 
had lifted them from the lowest ebb almost to the 
pinnacle of success. With the fall of Zumalacarregui 
Carlism received a death-blow in Spain, for there is 
little hope that one of this dynasty of claimants will 
ever reach the throne. 



MANILA AND SANTIAGO. 



The record of Spain has not been glorious at sea. 
She has but one great victory, that of Lepanto, to 
offer in evidence against a number of great defeats, 
such as those of the Armada, Cape St. Yincent, and 
Trafalgar. In 1898 two more defeats, those of Ma- 
nila and Santiago, were added to the list, and with 
an account of these our series of tales from Spanish 
history may fitly close. 

Exactly three centuries passed from the death of 
Philip 11. (1598) to that of the war with the United 
States, and during that long period the tide of Span- 
ish affairs moved steadily downward. At its be- 
ginning Spain exercised a powerful influence over 
European politics ; at its end she was looked upon 
with disdainful pity and had no longer a voice in 
continental affairs. Such was the inevitable result 
of an attempt to run a great nation on the wheels 
of bigotry and fanaticism. It could not fail to sink 
into the slough of ignorance and conservatism at 
the end. 

In her colonial affairs Spain was as intolerant and 
oppressive as in religious matters at home. When 
the other nations of Europe were loosening the reins 
of their colonial policy, Spain kept hers unyieldingly 
rigid. Colonial revolution was the result, and she 
lost all her possessions in America but the islands 
322 



MANILA AND SANTIAGO. 323 

of Cuba and Porto Eico. Yet she had learned no 
lesson, — she seemed incapable of profiting by expe- 
rience, — and the old policy of tyranny and rapacity 
was exercised over these islands until Cuba, the 
largest of them, was driven into insurrection. 

In attempting to suppress this insurrection Spain 
adopted the cruel methods she had exercised against 
the Moriscos in the sixteenth century, ignoring the 
fact that the twentieth century was near its dawn, 
and that a new standard of humane sympathy and 
moral obligation had arisen in other nations. Her 
cruelty towards the insurgent Cubans became so in- 
tolerable that the great neighboring republic of the 
United States bade her, in tones of no uncertain 
meaning, to bring it to an end. In response Spain 
adopted her favorite method of procrastination, and 
the frightful reign of starvation in Cuba was main- 
tained. This was more than the American people 
could endure, and war was declared. With the gen- 
eral course of that war our readers are familiar, but 
it embraced two events of signal significance — the 
naval contests of the war — which are worth telling 
again as the most striking occurrences in the recent 
history of Spain. 

At early dawn of the 1st of May, 1898, a squadron 
of United States cruisers appeared before the city 
of Manila, in the island of Luzon, the largest island 
of the Philippine archipelago, then a colony of Spain. 
This squadron, consisting of the cruisers Olympia, 
Baltimore, Ealeigh, and Boston, the gunboats Petrel 
and Concord, and the despatch-boat McCuUoch, had 
entered the bay of Manila during the night, passing 



324 HISTORICAL TALES. 

unhurt the batteries at its mouth, and at daybreak 
swept in proud array past the city front, seeking the 
Spanish fleet, which lay in the little bay of Cavite, 
opening into the larger bay. 

The Spanish ships consisted of five cruisers and 
three gunboats, inferior in weight and armament to 
their enemy, but flanked by shore batteries on each 
end of the line, and with an exact knowledge of the 
harbor, while the Americans were ignorant of dis- 
tances and soundings. These advantages on the side 
of the Spanish made the two fleets practically equal 
in strength. The battle about to be fought was one 
of leading importance in naval afi'airs. It was the 
second time in history in which two fleets built under 
the new ideas in naval architecture and armament 
had met in battle. The result was looked for with 
intense interest by the world. 

Commodore Dewey, the commander of the Ameri- 
can squadron, remained fully exposed on the bridge 
of his flag-ship, the Olympia, as she stood daringly 
in, followed in line by the Baltimore, Ealeigh, Petrel, 
Concord, and Boston. As they came up, the shore 
batteries opened fire, followed by the Spanish ships, 
while two submarine mines, exploded before the 
Olympia, tossed a shower of water uselessly into the 
air. 

Heedless of all this, the ships continued their 
course, their guns remaining silent, while the Span- 
ish fire grew continuous. Plunging shells tore up 
the waters of the bay to right and left, but not a 
ship was struck, and not a shot came in return from 
the frowning muzzles of the American guns. The 



MANILA AND SANTIAGO. 325 

hour of 5.30 had passed and the sun was pouring its 
beams brightly over the waters of the bay, when 
from the forward turret of the Olympia boomed 
a great gun, and an 8-inch shell rushed screaming 
in towards the Spanish fleet. Within ten minutes 
more all the ships were in action, and a steady stream 
of shells were pouring upon the Spanish ships. 

The difference in effect was striking. The Ameri- 
can gunners were trained to accurate aiming; the 
Spanish idea was simply to load and fire. In con- 
sequence few shells from the Spanish guns reached 
their mark, while few of those from American guns 
went astray. Soon the fair ships of Spain were 
frightfully torn and rent and many of their men 
stretched in death, while hardly a sign of damage 
was visible on an American hull. 

Sweeping down parallel to the Spanish line, and 
pouring in its fire as it went from a distance of forty- 
five hundred yards, the American squadron swept 
round in a long ellipse and sailed back, now bringing 
its starboard batteries into play. Six times it passed 
over this course, the last two at the distance of two 
thousand yards. From the great cannon, and from 
the batteries of smaller rapid-fire guns, a steady 
stream of projectiles was hurled inward, frightfully 
rending the Spanish ships, until at the end of the 
evolutions three of them were burning fiercely, and 
the others were little more than wrecks. 

Admiral Montojo's flag-ship, the Eeina Cristina, 
made a sudden dash from the line in the middle of 
the combat, with the evident hope of ramming and 
sinking the Olympia. The attempt was a desper- 



326 HISTORICAL TALES. 

ate one, the fire of the entire fleet being concen- 
trated on the single antagonist, until the storm of 
projectiles grew so terrific that utter annihilation 
seemed at hand. The Spanish admiral now swung 
his ship around and started hastily back. Just as 
she had fairly started in the reverse course an 8- 
inch shell from the Olympia struck her fairly in the 
stern and drove inward through every obstruction, 
wrecking the aft-boiler and blowing up the deck 
in its explosion. It was a fatal shot. Clouds of 
white smoke were soon followed by the red glare 
of flames. For half an hour longer the crew con-* 
tinued to work their guns. At the end of that time 
the fire was master of the ship. 

Two torpedo-boats came out with the same pur- 
pose, and met with the same reception. Such a rain 
of shell poured on them that they hastily turned and 
ran back. They had not gone far before one of them, 
torn by a shell, plunged headlong to the bottom of 
the bay. The other was beached, her crew flying in 
terror to the shore. 

While death and destruction were thus playing 
havoc with the Spanish ships, the Spanish fire was 
mainly wasted upon the sea. Shots struck the 
Olympia, Baltimore, and Boston, but did little dam- 
age. One passed just under Commodore Dewey on 
the bridge and tore a hole in the deck. One ripped 
up the main deck of the Baltimore, disabled a 6-inch 
gun, and exploded a box of ammunition, by which 
eight men were slightly wounded. These were the 
only men hurt on the American side during the 
whole battle. 



] 



MANILA AND SANTIAGO. 327 

At 7.35 Commodore Dewey withdrew his ships that 
the men might breakfast. The Spanish ships were 
in a hopeless state. Shortly after eleven the Ameri- 
cans returned and ranged up again before the ships 
of Spain, nearly all of which were in flames. For 
an hour and a quarter longer the blazing ships were 
pounded with shot and shell, the Spaniards feebly 
replying. At the end of that time the work was at 
an end, the batteries being silenced and the ships 
sunk, their upper works still blazing. Of their 
crews, nearly a thousand had perished in the fight. 

Thus ended one of the most remarkable naval 
battles in history. For more than three hours the 
American ships had been targets for a hot fire from 
the Spanish fleet and forts, and during all that time 
not a man had been killed and not a ship seriously 
injured. Meanwhile, the Spanish fleet had ceased to 
exist. Its burnt remains lay on the bottom of the 
bay. The forts had been battered into shapeless 
heaps of earth, their garrisons killed or put to 
flight. It was an awful example of the dift'erence 
between accurate gunnery and firing at random. 

Two months later a second example of the same 
character was made. Spain's finest squadron, con- 
sisting of the four first-class armored cruisers Maria 
Teresa, Yizcaya, Almirante Oquendo, and Cristobal 
Colon, with two torpedo-boat destroyers, lay in the 
harbor of Santiago de Cuba, blockaded by a power- 
ful American fleet of battle-ships and cruisers under 
Admiral Sampson. They were held in a close trap. 
The town was being besieged by land. Sampson's 
fleet far outnumbered them at sea. They must 



328 HISTORICAL TALES. 

either surrender with the town or take the forlorn 
hope of escape by flight. 

The latter was decided upon. On the morning 
of July 3 the lookout on the Brooklyn, Commodore 
Schley's flag-ship, reported that a ship was coming 
out of the harbor. The cloud of moving smoke had 
been seen at the same instant from the battle-ship 
Iowa, and in an instant the Sunday morning calm 
on these vessels was replaced by intense excitement. 

Mast-head signals told the other ships of what 
was in view, the men rushed in mad haste to 
quarters, the guns were made ready for service, am- 
munition was hoisted, coal hurled into the furnaces, 
and every man on the alert. It was like a man sud- 
denly awoke from sleep with an alarm cry : at one 
moment silent and inert, in the next moment thrill- 
ing with intense life and activity. 

This was not a battle; it was a flight and pursuit. 
The Spaniards as soon as the harbor was cleared 
opened a hot fire on the Brooklyn, their nearest an- 
tagonist, which they wished to disable through fear 
of her superior speed. But their gunnery here was 
like that at Manila, their shells being wasted through 
unskilful handling. On the other hand the fire from 
the American ships was frightful, precise, and de- 
structive, the fugitive ships being rapidly torn by 
such a rain of shells as had rarely been seen before. 

Turning down the coast, the fugitive ships drove 
onward at their utmost speed. After them came the 
cruiser Brooklyn and the battle-ships Texas, Iowa, 
Oregon, and Indiana, hurling shells from their great 
guns in their wake. The New York, Admiral Samp- 



MANILA AND SANTIAGO* 329 

son's flag-ship, was distant several miles up the coast, 
too far away to take part in the fight. 

Such a hail of shot, sent with such accurate aim, 
could not long be endured. The Maria Teresa, Ad- 
miral Cervera's flag-ship, was quickly in flames, while 
shells were piercing her sides and bursting within. 
The main steam-pipe was severed, the pump was 
put out of service, the captain was killed. Lower- 
ing her flag, the vessel headed for the shore, where 
she was quickly beached. 

The Almirante Oquendo, equally punished, fol- 
lowed the same example, a mass of flames shrouding 
her as she rushed for the beach. The Yizcaya was 
the next to succumb, after a futile effort to ram the 
Brooklyn. One shell from the cruiser went the en- 
tire length of her gun-deck, killing or wounding all 
the men on it. The Oregon was pouring shells into 
her hull, and she in turn, burning fiercely, was run 
ashore. She had made a flight of twenty miles. 

Only one of the Spanish cruisers remained, — the 
Cristobal Colon. She had passed all her consorts, 
and when the Yizcaya went ashore was six miles 
ahead of the Brooklyn and more than seven miles 
from the Oregon. It looked as if she might escape. 
But she would have to round Cape Cruz by a long 
detour, and the Brooklyn was headed straight for 
the cape, while the Oregon kept on the Colon's trail. 

An hour, a second hour, passed ; the pursuers were 
gaining mile by mile ; the spurt of speed of the Colon 
was at an end. One of the great 13-inch shells of 
the Oregon, fired from four miles away, struck the 
water near the Colon. A second fell beyond her. 



330 HISTORICAL TALES. 

An 8-inch shell from the Brooklyn pierced her above 
her armor-belt. At one o'clock both ships were 
pounding away at her, an ineffective fire being re- 
turned. At 1,20 she hauled down her flag, and, like 
her consorts, ran ashore. She had made a run of 
forty-eight miles. 

About six hundred men were killed on the Spanish 
ships; the American loss was one man killed and 
one wounded. The ships of Spain were blazing 
wrecks ; those of the United States were none the 
worse for the fight. It was like the victory at Ma- 
nila repeated. It resembled the latter in another 
particular, two torpedo-boats taking part in the af- 
fair. These were attacked by the Gloucester, a 
yacht converted into a gunboat, and dealt with so 
shrewdly that both of them were sunk. 

The battle ended, efforts to save on the part of the 
American ships succeeded the effort to destroy, the 
Yankee tars showing as much courage and daring 
in their attempts to rescue the wounded from the 
decks of the burning ships as they had done in the 
fight. The ships were blazing fore and aft, their 
guns were exploding from the heat, at any moment 
the fire might reach the main magazines. A heavy 
surf made the work of rescue doubly dangerous ; yet 
no risk could deter the American sailors while the 
chance to save one of the wounded remained, and 
they made as proud a record on the decks of the 
burning ships as they had done behind the guns. 

These two signal victories were the great events 
of the war. Conjoined with one victory on land, 
they put an end to the conflict. Without a fleet, 



MANILA AND SANTIAGO. 331 

and with no means of aiding her Cuban troops, Spain 
was helpless, and the naval victories at Manila and 
Santiago, in which one man was killed, virtually set- 
tled the question of Cuban independence, and taught 
the nations of Europe that a new and great naval 
power had arisen, with which they would have to 
deal when they next sought to settle the destinies 
of the world. The United States had risen into 
world-wide prominence upon the ruin of the colonial 
empire of Spain. 



THE END. 



i 



By Charles Morris. 



Historical Tales. 



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